
' CENTURY HiSTOKiCALRi; Al)il»i 




THE 

COLONISTS 

AND THE 

REVOLUTION 




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Book 



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COPVRIGIIT DEPOSIT. 



THE COLONISTS 
AND THE REVOLUTION 



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CENTURY READINGS 

IN 

UNITED STATES HISTORY 

A series, made up from the best on this subject 
in The Century and St. Nicholas, for students 
of the upper grammar grades and the first year 
high school. Profusely illustrated. 



EXPLORERS AND SETTLERS 

THE COLONISTS AND THE REVOLUTION 

A NEW NATION 

THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT 

THE CIVIL WAR 

THE PROGRESS OF A UNITED PEOPLE 

12ino. About 225 pages each. $.50 net. 

THE CENTURY CO. 




Drawn l.y C. N. C.,.:hiii. 1771 



Engraiod on etecl by .V. H. RitchM 




CENTURY READINGS IN UNITED STATES HISTORY 

THE COLONISTS 
AND THE REVOLUTION 



EDITED BV 



CHARLES L. BARSTOW 







NEW YORK 
THE CENTURY CO 

1912 






Copyright, 191 2, by 
The Century Co. 



Published March^ igi2 



gCI.A301>83S 



CONTENTS 



The Good Old Colony Times . 
The Earlier Indian Wars . 
By the Waters of Chesapeake . 
A Settler in Pennsylvania . . 
The Many-Sided Franklin . . 

Philadelphia 

The Walking Purchase . . . 
Dutch Characteristics . 
Life on a Colonial Manor . . 

A Colonial Letter 

A Thanksgiving Dinner . . 

Little Puritans 

The Fur-trader and the Indian 
The Algonquin Medicine-boy . 

In 1776 

A Tory Argument 

The Prologue of the Revolution 

Washington 

Washington as an Athlete . 
The Signers of the Declaration 

The Battle of Princeton (1777) 

Nathan Hale 

La Fayette 

Benjamin Franklin .... 
Paul Jones 



Helen E. Smith 
Edward Egg I est on 
John IV. Palmer . 
Richard Tozvnsend 
Paul Leicester Ford 
Talcott Williams . 
George Wheeler . 
Mrs. Van Rensselaer 
Helen E. Smith . 



H. E. Scudder . 

Parkman, Kalm and others 

Francis S. Palmer 

W. H. Venahle . 

Rev. Andrew Burnaby 

Justin H. Smith . 

Henry Cabot Lodge 

Mrs. Burton Harrison 

of Independence 

Mary V. Worstell 

George Washington 

Mary S. Northrop 

Mrs. Eugenia M. Hodge 

H. A. Ogden . 

Molly Elliot Seawell 



PAGE 

3 
9 
20 
29 
31 
47 
57 
65 
70 

83 

8S 

88 

96 

103 

113 

126 

129 

138 

149 

157 
179 
184 
194 
201 
209 



viii Contents 

PAGE 

The Stamp-Act Box .... David TV. Woods, Jr. . . . 221 
The Origin of Our Flat. . . Ptirnialce McFadden .... 225 
Boston Tlunuas IV. Hif/giiisoii . . . 231 



Acknowledgment is made of the courtesy of Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons and 
Justin II. Smith for i)ermission to use the article " The Prologue of the Revolu- 
tion." and to Molly Klliot Seavvell for permission to reprint the article on " Paul 
lones." 



THE COLONISTS 
AND THE REVOLUTION 



CONCORD HYMN 

By Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Sung at the Completion of the Battle Monument, 
April 19, 1836. 

By the rude bridge that arched the flood, 
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, 

Here once the embattled farmers stood. 

And fired the shot heard round the world. 

The foe long since in silence slept; 

Alike the conqueror silent sleeps ; 
And Time the ruined bridge has swept 

Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. 

On this green bank, by this soft stream, 

We set to-day a votive stone ; 
That memory may their deed redeem, 

When, like our sires, our sons are gone. 

Spirit, that made those heroes dare 
To die, and leave their children free. 

Bid Time and Nature gently spare 
The shaft we raise to them and thee. 



THE COLONISTS 
AND THE REVOLUTION 

THE GOOD OLD COLONY TIMES ' 
By Helen E. Smith 

In forming pictures of home life in the colonies, dates, 
places, and social classes must all be most carefully con- 
sidered. The life conditions which prevailed in the New 
England colonies from 1620 to 1640 were by no means the 
same as those which prevailed in the same colonies dur- 
ing the next two decades, and in the other colonies they 
were at no time quite the same as in New England. The 
settlers of Virginia, Delaware and Maryland were not of 
the same creeds, either political or religious as those which 
prevailed in New England. They had more money and 
the climate had also its influence. 

The Dutch held very similar religious and political views 
to those of the New England colonists, but their com- 
mercial instincts were stronger, their aggressiveness was 
less vehement, and their love of home comforts and knowl- 
edge of how to obtain them were much greater. 

These first three sets of colonists had passed through 
their pioneer stages, and gathered around themselves a fair 
degree of all the accompaniments of civilization before the 

1 Extracts from " Colonial Days and Ways." 

3 



The Colonists and the Revolution 



advent of the fourth distinct and considerable body of set- 
tlers. These were the refugee Huguenots. 

In studying the lives of the early colonists these dif- 
ferent origins should always be considered. 

The Puritan — a political as well as a religious exile, 
— persecuted for his political views even more than his 
religious tenets, came here to found an empire where all 
his views should have room to expand. The harshness of 
the Puritan toward those who disagreed with him was 
tenderness and mercy compared to the " justice " meted out 
in old England at that period. 

The conditions of the Puritan's 
life were hard but full of men- 
tal, moral and physical health. 
Whether gentle or simple, he de- 
spised no handicraft, neglected no 
means of cultivation, shirked no 
duty (nor did he permit any other 
to do so if he could help it), and 
he fought his way upward, unhast- 
ing, unresting. 

The settlers of the fertile South- 
land were also principally 
of English blood, yet they 
''"' differed widely from those 

; of the sterile North. They 
were courageous, of course. 
Cowards did not cross the 
lamp and ocean in those days, when 
the sea and the wilderness 
had real terrors for even the boldest. The love of liberty 




Colonial 



asSi;;£^^»^tZ:- 



wrought-iron 
sad-iron. 



The Good Old Colony Times 




was in their blood, and both the traditions of their past 
and the comparatively genial conditions by which they 
were surrounded gave them easy and comfortable views. 

The Huguenot was devout, un- 
ambitious, affectionate of heart, 
artistic, cultivated, adaptable. 
He brought to us the arts, the 
accomplishments and graces of 
the highest civilization then 
known, together with a cheerful- 
ness all his own. Not a colony, 
not a class but was ameliorated 
by his influence. The home lives of all these different 
bands of colonists must have differed widely. None had 
luxuries and few had comforts, as we now understand 
these terms, but each had some possessions, some ways, 
some deficiencies, and some attainments which belonged to 
none of the others. 

At one time there was a general impression that all the 
immigrant families of good standing had brought over 
with them many rich articles of furniture, much silver 
plate, and even many articles of porcelain. Later on it 
had to be acknowledged that nothing but the most es- 
sential of household furnishings could have been permitted 
on vessels which were already overcrowded with pas- 
sengers and the animals which were essential to life and 
agriculture in the new land. 

Rudimentary schools were defective in many ways, but 
the teachers did their best to make zeal atone for the lack 
of other essentials. Never from first to last did they cease 
to set the highest value upon intellectual cultivation or 



The Colonists and the Revolution 




fail to use every means in their power to secure for their 
children the advantages of a '' polite education," a phrase 
which is repeated hundreds of times in old letters. 

The earliest New England dwellings were built of logs, 
~ soon superseded by the 

permanent homestead. 
The larger part of the 
best of the early per- 
manent homesteads were 
much alike. Both the 
external walls and those 
of the partitions w^re of 
heavy timbers roughly 
squared by the ax, 
chinked with moss, and 
lined with hewn planks 
two inches in thickness. 
In later days coats of 
plaster were put on over 
the planks, but during the first years the walls were made 
warm as well as picturesque by hangings of bear, deer, 
otter, wild cat, and fox skins. 

The exterior walls were about two feet in thickness, 
which tells of the size of the forest trees which had been 
cut down to make them. The high-placed and deep-seated 
windows were scant in number, heavily barred and narrow. 
It is doubtful if the first of the windows were glazed. 
Even in old England it was only the wealthy who at this 
time could afford the luxury of glass. Oiled paper was the 
usual substitute to exclude cold with heavy and close 
wooden shutters both outside and inside. During the cold- 
est weather it must have been necessary to depend for light, 




Colonial hob-nailed shoes. 



The Good Old Colony Times 7 

even in the daytime, upon the open fires, pine knots, and 
candles for at least the first two decades in each new settle- 
ment. 

In the center of the house rose the great stone chimney, 
with wide fireplaces opening into three large rooms on the 
first story, and into four on the second story. 

The second story, on the two longer sides projected con- 
siderably beyond the lower. In view of the constant 
danger from Indians, it is probable that the house was in- 
tended to be used as a fortress in case of necessity. 

Not until well into the second half of the seventeenth 
century was furniture of any but the roughest sorts made 
in New England. 

Scanty enough, according to our standard, were the 
plenishings of the wealthy houses of old England, and 




Colonial wigs. 



really pathetic was the scarcity here, of what, were even 
then esteemed to be essential comforts in the older land. 

Floor coverings were a rarity even in palaces and the 
sand and rushes which silenced the tread were as plentiful 
here as elsewhere. 

Wooden dishes served on ordinary occasions in Old Eng- 
land as in New. 

The real sense of privation was felt in things much closer 
to the needs of primitive man. 



8 The Colonists and the Revolution 

Great, very great, must have been the sufferings from 
the cold and from the lack of suitable food. Hot water 
was not dreamed of as a beverage and the milder stimulants 
of our day had not been introduced. The earliest mention 
of chocolate in Connecticut is said to have been in 1679. 
Five years later coffee is first named, and tea not until 
1695. 



ENGLAND AND AMERICA IN 1782 

O Thou, that sendest out the man 

To rule by land and sea, 
Strong mother of a Lion-line, 
Be proud of those strong sons of thine 

Who wrench'd their rights from thee ! 

What wonder if in noble heat 

Those men thine arms withstood, 
Retaught the lesson thou hast taught. 
And in thy spirit with thee fought, — 

Who sprang from English blood ! 

Alfred Tennyson. 



THE EARLIER INDIAN WARS 
By Edward Eggleston 

The Virginia colony, in its early struggle 
with want, was saved from complete overthrow 
at the hands of the savages by the address of 
Captain John Smith, by the imperviousness of 
English armor to arrow-shots, and by the frightful 
detonations of matchlock guns and small cannon. 
After the marriage of Pocahontas there ensued an 
era of good feeling in which the confederated tribes 
of the Virginia peninsulas found it better to trade 
with white men than to fight them. Meanwhile, 
English religionists cultivated a sentimental enthu- 
siasm about the Indians, founding a school and de- 
vising other things for the wild men as laudable in 
aim as they were impossible of execution. The 
Indian war ^^ger pioneers, feeling secure and intent on open- 
ing ground for growing tobacco, planted their 
cabins farther and farther apart along the inviting river- 
banks. They traded with the savages for corn, and hired 
them to shoot with English fowling-pieces the great bronze- 
breasted wild turkeys, the innumerable pigeons, — whose 
flight by millions sometimes obscured the sky and was 
thought an omen of evil, — and the water-fowl that gath- 
ered in countless flocks upon the bays and tributaries of 
the James River. These Indian hunters lived in the houses 
of their employers, penetrated the mystery of European 

9 



10 The Colonists and the Revolution 

habits, and became expert with fire-arms, so that the dread 
of the white man's magic charms and deadly thunderbolts 
wore away. Even the implacable old Opechancanough, 
who had come to the leadership on the death of Powhatan, 




Indian rattles of turtle shell. 



seemed to be friendly. He accepted a house from the man- 
ager of the college lands, and found no end of delight in 
locking and unlocking the door. The savages entered 
freely the isolated and unfortified cabins of the settlers 
without so much as knocking; they ate from the planters' 
supplies, and slept wrapped in skins or blankets before the 
wide-open fireplaces. The former hardships of the col- 
onists were fast sinking into that happy oblivion which 
peace and prosperity bring. 

But in 1622, on the 22d of March (Old Style), in the 
middle of the day, while the men were afield, the Indians 
fell upon the women and children in the houses and the 
men who worked unarmed abroad, killing the settlers with 



The Earlier Indian Wars 11 

their own axes, hatchets, hoes, and knives, hacking and 
disfiguring their dead bodies, and then, fortunately, paus- 
ing to pillage and burn the dwellings. The unutterable 
outrages on living and dead, so familiar in the history of 
Indian massacres from that time to this, appeared in this 
first onslaught. The plan had been well laid to exterminate 
or drive away every Englishman from the coast. One 
Indian of those dwelling among white men and under 
missionary influence was touched with compassion. As 
he lay upon the floor the night before the massacre, he 
received from a companion the authoritative command of 
his tribe to kill the master of the house in which he lived; 
but he rose and whispered a warning to his benefactor, who 
carried the tidings across the water into Jamestown, so that 
the authorities were able to check the Indians after three 
hundred and forty-seven Europeans had been slain. The 
savages had not quite lost their fear of the English; they 
turned back from every show of force, even from an empty 
gun in the hand of a woman. 

One-twelfth of the whole colony had fallen, almost 
within a single hour. The Virginia planters had no 
countrymen on this side of the sea except the remote hand- 
ful of famine-stricken pilgrims beyond Cape Cod; and this 
destructive blow appalled the colonists, and there was talk 
of fleeing to the eastern shore of the Chesapeake for se- 
curity. But, under prudent leadership, the settlers were 
drawn together into the stronger places and made to pre- 
sent a compact and undaunted front. They built palisaded 
houses and carried their arms in the field and to church. 
A savage ferocity, born of resentment and terror, showed 
itself, and the white men did not scruple to treat a per- 
fidious foe with shameless bad faith. How else could Eng- 



12 The Colonists and the Revolution 

lish soldiers, in cumbrous armor, ever come up with bow- 
men so fleet of foot and so light of baggage? Affecting 
to make peace, the English appointed the 23d of July, 
1623, as a day on which to fall simultaneously upon the 
unsuspecting Indian villages, slaughtering the people, burn- 
ing the wigwams, and cutting up the growing maize, so as 
to leave the savages to a winter of misery and starvation. 
Another attack was made in 1624, when eight hundred 
Pamunkeys and other Indians made a brave stand for two 
days, but were at length beaten by the odds of fire-arms 
and defensive armor. 

In 1644, twenty-two years after this first massacre, when 
Opechancanough was shriveled and palsied with age, un- 
able to stand on his feet or to open his eyelids without help, 
he was borne on a litter to command in a new attack. The 
Indians, hearing that there was civil strife in England, and 
having seen a battle between a king's ship and a parlia- 
ment ship in the James River, thought it a good opportunity 
to make a clean sweep of the English. Five hundred 
were killed in two days, but the arrival of the governor 
with an armed force put the savages to flight. Ope- 
chancanough was afterward taken and carried into James- 
town, where a soldier appointed to guard him shot the 
unmollified centenarian, to whom were attributed so many 
woes. 

Very different in origin and outcome from the Virginia 
w^ar was the beginning of sorrow^s in New England. The 
Dutch purchased the Connecticut River country from the 
powerful Pequots, who had recently expelled the tribes 
formerly seated on its banks. Thereupon English settlers 
brought back the former owners, gave them the protection 
of an English fort, and from them acquired a rival title. 



The Earlier Indian Wars 



13 



This inflamed the jealousy of the Pequots, some of whom 
made themselves amends by kiUing the unarmed crew of 
a trading boat from Virginia. The alHes of the Pequots 
on Block Island also slew John Oldham, trading thither 
from Massachusetts. 

Captain Endecott, afterward governor of Massachusetts, 
commanded the force sent out in 1636, with orders to bring 
these Indians to reason by putting to death all their able- 
bodied men. Endecott was very brave in chopping down 
May-poles, banishing churchmen, and hanging Quakers, 
but he was not so well suited to contend with Indians. On 
Block Island, he burned the combustible wigwams and cut 
to pieces seven canoes, but the nimble savages retreated 
to hiding-places according to their wont. Flushed with 
triumph, Captain Endecott then sailed to " Pequot Har- 




Prom »• lithograph in the New York Poblio Library (Samuel P. Avery collection) 

White women attacked by Indians. 



14 The Colonists and the Revolution 

bor " — now known as the mouth of the Thames River — 
in Connecticut. Here the Pequots outwitted him by keep- 
ing negotiations open until they could remove their fami- 
lies and household stuff. The English at length " beat up 
the drums " as a challenge to battle, giving fair warning to 
the fleet savages to get out of the way before the guns were 
discharged. The Pequots shot off some arrows and then 
ran away under fire. Endecott returned to Boston without 
losing a man or impairing the enemy's strength. The hand- 
ful of settlers on the Connecticut, and the little garrison 
under Lieutenant Lion Gardiner at the mouth of that river, 
were left to endure as best they might the fury which this 
expedition had provoked. The insolence of the embold- 
ened and enraged Pequots now passed all bounds. They 
made raids on the Connecticut settlers, killed and captured 
straggling soldiers from the fort at Saybrook, torturing 
every hapless white man that fell into their hands, and re- 
peating within hearing of the garrison the cries, groans, 
prayers, and distressful ejaculations uttered by those w^hom 
they had tormented, mimicking and deriding their agon- 
ies, and wearing head-bands made of the fingers and toes 
of their victims. 

In Maryland, a conflict with the tribes broke out about 
the time of the close of the Pequot War in Connecticut. 
The first contest with the Susquehannas seems to have 
dragged its indecisive course through thirteen years, and 
when peace was made with this tribe there was still trouble 
from some of the bands on the eastern peninsula. The 
records are so defective that we are only able to see occur- 
rences in a sort of historic tw^ilight; the Indian wars ap- 
pear to be without beginning or end. We catch a dim 
vision of the gallant figure of Colonel Cornwayleys, " the 



The Earlier Indian Wars 15 

guardian genius of the colony," as, at a later period, we 
hear of the exploits of Colonel Ninian Beale. We are 
able to conjecture something of the distresses of the in- 
fant colony during a prolonged Indian war, to which were 
superadded religious dissensions, insubordination, and 
more than one revolution. Meanwhile, Virginia was never 
free for many years at a time from the scourge, and in 
1656 her troops suffered a bitter defeat near the present site 
of Richmond, at a brook which still bears the name of 
Bloody Run. 

In 1675, there came upon the thriving New England 
colonies that struggle between Indian ferocity and English 
endurance known as King Philip's War. Philip's father 
was Massasoit, the ally of the Pilgrims. His son and suc- 
cessor, Alexander — so called by the English — had been 
rudely put under arrest by the Plymouth authorities on sus- 
picion of hostile intentions. Soon after his release he died, 
some thought of grief and humiliation. Philip, who suc- 
ceeded his brother, was a typical Indian chief, arrogant 
and cringing by turns. It pleased his inordinate vanity to 
plot against the English, though he shrank from the actual 
collision, which appears to have been brought about at last, 
as so many Indian massacres have been, by the impetuous 
valor of the young warriors, — members of that fierce de- 
mocracy known in the western tribes at the present time as 
'' the soldiers' lodge " — a body which often carries the day 
against wiser counsel when war is in the making. But 
Philip's arrogance, matched by that of the General Court 
at Plymouth, rendered the collision inevitable sooner or 
later. 

Had those in authority at Plymouth and Boston appre- 
ciated the immense advance in power which the Indians had 



i6 The Colonists and the Revolution 




els (New Toik Public Library) 



Indian stockade. 



made in acquiring the use of the white man's weapons, 
they might have found means to avoid a conflict which 
presently brought upon them, in addition to Phihp's 
Wampanoags, the Nipmucks of the Massachusetts middle 
country, the populous clans of the Connecticut Valley, the 
powerful Narragansetts of the coast south of Cape Cod, 
and after awhile the Tarranteens of the East. Little ac- 
quainted with Indian warfare, the white men fell into 
one ambush after another and suffered surprise after sur- 
prise. Marching in close order, the strength of a party 
was easily reckoned and its ranks readily cut to pieces by 
the skulking foe. " Our men," says Gookins, *' could see 
no enemy to shoot at, but yet felt their bullets out of the 
thick bushes." For a long time there was little but dis- 
asters of sudden massacre and overwhelming defeat, of 



The Earlier Indian Wars 17 

families slain, hamlets in flames, and women and children 
carried into captivity. The Puritans sought to placate an 
angry deity by fasting and humiliations, and by laws against 
such abominations as the wearing of long hair by men and 
the wearing of short hair and too many ribbons by 
women. Young people were forbidden to drive together, 
and God was to be pleased by a renewed persecution of 
the Quakers. But, in spite of these reforms. Captain 
Hutchinson and sixteen men were cut off by an ambush 
near Brookfield; Captain Beers was slain with twenty of 
his men while on his way to Hadley ; Captain Lathrop, 
attempting to reach Hadley a week later, was cut off with 
almost his whole troop of about a hundred men. North- 
field and Deerfield were abandoned to be burned by the 
savages, and a considerable part of Springfield was de- 
stroyed. What seems now to have been a rather impolitic 
attack on the Narragansett stronghold resulted in victory, 
purchased by a loss so great that the slender military force 
of the colonies was staggered by it. The scattering far 
and near of the enraged warriors of this powerful tribe, 
homeless and famine-stricken in a bitter winter, only 
aggravated the sorrows of New England. In midwinter, 
Lancaster was destroyed and forty of its people slain and 
captured. The daring enemy penetrated to within twenty 
miles of Boston, and assailed Medfield and Weymouth. 
Almost the whole of the old colony of Plymouth was laid 
waste, Warwick in Rhode Island was destroyed, and 
Providence was partly burned. Pierce and his whole party 
of fifty fell by an ambuscade, Wadsworth and a like 
number were cut off in the same way; and so numerous 
and disheartening were the disasters, that the total de- 
population of Massachusetts colony began to be feared. 



i8 The Colonists and the Revolution 



But, however inferior the colonists might be to the In- 
dians in the skill needed for a forest war, it was soon shown 
in New England, as elsewdiere, that civilization has super- 
ior staying equality. The infuriated savages at length ex- 
hausted themselves by the very energy of their attacks. 
Having no stores or resources, and no efficient organiza- 
tion, they could not hold together. As spring advanced, 
the Indians scattered in small hunting and fishing parties 
to avoid perishing. The Connecticut River tribes grew 
weary of wandering from place to place in hungry and 
continual terror of the persevering colonists, and Philip 
became unpopular as the author of their wretchedness; the 
Mohawks showed hostility to Philip, and the Nipmucks 
w^re overawed by the now successful white men. Philip 
and his immediate band doggedly returned eastward to 
their old haunt at Mount Hope. Here the first real frontier 



"T 



'.^-^ 






^4 



warrior 
England, 



i^X'' 



^ 








Plan of a Pequot fort. 



of New 
Benjamin 
Church, at the head 
of a motley troop, 
was beating the sav- 
ages at their own 
game of skulking, 
ambuscade, and sur- 
prise. The war was 
virtually ended in 
August, 1676, when 
Philip, seeking to 
make a timely escape 
from a swamp, as he 
had often done be- 
fore, was killed by 



The Earlier Indian Wars 



19 



1 




2^^^^^^^' 



Indian chief. 



one of his own Indians who 

had deserted to Church's party. 

Vengeance was wreaked upon 

his dead body, which was 

quartered and hung upon trees. 

One of his hands was dehv- 

ered to the man who killed 

him, to be carried round for 

a penny peep-show, and his 

head was taken into Plymouth 

on a public thanksgiving day, 

and stuck upon a gibbet after 

the barbarous fashion of that time. " God sent them the 

head of a leviathan for a thanksgiving feast," brags Cotton 

Mather, who, some years afterward, robbed the head of its 

jaw-bone, which he carried to Boston as a relic. 

Never were thanksgivings more sincere than those of- 
fered in Plymouth and Massachusetts. Upward of two 
thousand Indians had been slain, the greater part of those 
who remained alive had been sold into West Indian slavery, 
and the danger to the colony had passed away. But never 
were public rejoicings more deeply tinged with regrets. 
The out-settlements were ruined; six hundred dwellings 
were in ashes; the accumulations of years had been wasted; 
and worst of all, the flower of Massachusetts' manhood — 
one-eleventh of all her able-bodied men — had been cut 
off untimely. Every family in the colony was in mourn- 
ing. 



BY THE WATERS OF CHESAPEAKE 
By John Williamson Palmer 

It has been said, not unwisely, of this bountiful and 
accommodating bay, that it was at once the strength and 
the weakness of the people whom the fame of its ways of 
pleasantness and paths of peace, had attracted to habitation 
on its banks ; for while it offered them prosperity and 
independence as free as grace, it lulled them into habits of 
insouciance and recklessness, made them improvident in 
their husbandry, and squandering in their hospitalities. 
For they were an epitome of all sorts and conditions of 
men, wherein the gentleman took his heartiness from the 
yeoman, and the yeoman his free-handedness from the 
gentleman, and both their pride of class and caste from 
sturdy British stock, jealous for its traditions and its ways. 
A robust, bluff folk, who kept their democracy alive among 
themselves, and impressed it upon all comers of whatso- 
ever nationality who might ask for room and range among 
them, to make free with the fowls of the air and the 
fishes of the bay. For English ideas were dominant, and 
" the custom of the country " was wholly English from 
the day that Leonard Calvert set up his standard at St. 
Mary's,^ and while the theory of government was es- 

i(The history of Maryland owes its interest not so much to striking 
events as to the continuity of old English institutions and ancient 
habits of local self-government. When the early colonists came to 
Maryland they invented no administrative or judicial methods. The 
old institutions of England were transplanted to Maryland and ac- 

20 




By the Waters of Chesapeake 21 

sentially aristocratic, the strength in the best, the temper 
of the people was expressed in a sturdy democracy, 
grounded in common sense and 
good digestion. 

To this day the Marylander to 
the manner born cherishes with 
fihal piety the associations that 
chng to johnny-cake and potato 
pudding; he has never been rec- 
onciled to the gas-jet or the reg- 
ister, and fondly insists that an 
open wood-fire, candles, and a 
warming-pan are the true sym- 
bols of home. 

The common people of this The first Lord Baltimore, 
motley colony had come by their common sense " nat- 
urally," as children come by their mumps or measles; they 
had found it in vicissitude of fortune, in various hard- 
ships, in oppression and contumely, in the lot of the rebel, 
the convict, and the felon. There were those among them 
who bore the brand of the malefactor on the palms of 
their hands, and others with the brand of social outcast- 
ing seared in their hearts. The prodigal son jostled his 
elder brother on the deck of every ship that cleared from 
the Mersey or the Thames to let go her anchor in the 
Severn or the Chester. 

Maryland, under the Baltimores, was the only colony 
that admitted convicts; she even welcomed them, for the 

climatized. In the new soil they were modified and destroyed, or they 
were modified and perpetuated ; but in either case there is perfect 
continuity between the institutions of colonial Maryland and those 
of the older country.) John Johnson, A.B., in " Old Maryland 
Manors " : being No. vii of the Johns Hopkins University Studies in 
History. 



22 







in 



u 



By the Waters of Chesapeake 23 

labor of their hands, for the outcome of their wits and 
acquirements, for their possibihties of rehabihtation. The 
indentured servant, the " redemptioner," or the " free- 
wilier," saw at the end of his five or six years of servitude, 
'' according to the custom of the country," his fifty acres of 
land, his ax, his gun, and his two hoes, besides a new suit 
of kersey, w^ith stockings, " French- fall shoes," and a new 
hat; and for the women there were a skirt and waistcoat 
of penistone, a blue apron, a linen smock, two linen caps, 
shoes and stockings, and three barrels of Indian corn. As 
for those who were crimped and kidnapped in English 
ports, and carried away to the Chesapeake to toil in the 
tobacco-fields, they found themselves from time to time in 
company as choice as that which once welcomed ladies and 
gentlemen of quality to the superfine coteries of the Fleet 
Prison. 

The baronial system of the Baltimores, w^hich contem- 
plated the establishment of a landed aristocracy, was in 
the strictest sense the rule of the landlord. Tracts of from 
one thousand to five thousand acres, bordering on the 
bay, were erected into manors, with the right to the lords 
to hold courts-leet and courts-baron, as on the manors of 
St. Clement's and St. Gabriel's. In this class we find the 
germ of a nobility, and next below it the body of gentle- 
men planters, " citizens of credit and renown," from whose 
ranks were chosen the justices and commissioners. Last 
of all, the tenants on the small manors, styled freeholders 
and suitors, and addressed as " Mr." by courtesy. Davis ^ 
describes the plantations as " the most striking feature on 
the face of society." Hardly a home or a tenement that 

1 George Lynn-Lachlan Davis: "The Day-Star of American Free- 
dom." 1855. 



24 The Colonists and the Revolution 

was not approached by water. Here were held the earhest 
courts and councils; governors, privy councilors, judges, 
all were planters. There were the merchants, too, trading 
with London, Liverpool, and other English ports. " And 







Satin slipper of colonial period. 

the large plantations, with their groups of storehouses, as- 
sumed the aspect and discharged the functions of little 
towns." But the spirit of the age was knightly. The 
progenitors of the manorial barons of Maryland had been 
gentlemen by virtue of their swords and spurs; letters were 
in slight request among them. Macaulay tells us that in 
England many lords of manors had hardly learning enough 
to sign a niittiinus. And so our Maryland lords of the 
manor, a hundred years before the Revolutionary War, 
were commonly gentlemen who made their marks on deeds 
and records, when their scriveners and servants had done 
the vulgar waiting. The sword was the symbol of dis- 
tinction, not the purse or the pen; and those unlettered 
gentlemen were not the less conspicuous in council, or 
courtly in the assembly of dames, because they could not 
pen a nimble compliment or write themselves '' Esquire." 

Two or three generations later we find this same class 
educated, and solicitous for intellectual acquirement, proud 



By the Waters of Chesapeake 25 

of their imported libraries (for the most part comprehen- 
sive and judiciously selected), and sending their sons to 
Oxford or Cambridge. Nor has their influence been at 
any time superseded by that of the nouvcaux riches. In 
no American city is a man's bank-book more lightly 
esteemed, or more grudgingly accepted as a social pass- 
port, than in Baltimore or Annapolis. 

At the outbreak of the Revolution, the smart and handy 








Colonial secretary. 



craft of the Chesapeake proceeded to show that they could 
fight as well as trade, and the port of Baltimore soon be- 
came the center of a system of privateering so formidable 



26 The Colonists and the Revolution 

that the enemy had hardly learned to respect it before he 
began to fear it. The records show that between April 
I, 1777, and March 14, 1783, two hundred and forty-eight 
vessels sailed out of the bay under letters of marque — 
" and this with a British fleet at Hampton Roads and 
inside the Capes nearly all the time." The gallant 
Chasseur, armed with twelve guns, manned by one hun- 
dred officers and men of Maryland, and commanded by 
Captain Thomas Boyle, made a true viking's record, cap- 
turing eighty vessels, of which thirty-two were of equal 
force with the privateer, and eighteen superior in guns 
and men. 

These Chesapeake privateers and letters of marque were 
as hornets and wasps in the face of the enemy. They 
fought and captured ships and smaller craft at the very 
gates of his ports, in the British and Irish channels, off 
the North Cape, on the coasts of Spain and Portugal, in 
the East and West Indies, and in the Pacific Ocean. 

In 1832, in Baltimore, a stage started from Barnum's 
Hotel daily for Philadelphia, via York, Harrisburg, and 
Lancaster; but the route most approved by people of con- 
dition was by the George Washington or the Constitution 
steamboat, up the bay to Frenchtown ; thence by frisky little 
coaches on a crazy little railroad to Newcastle on the Dela- 
ware; and thence by boat again to Philadelphia — '' through 
in ten hours." This was the route which was especially 
affected by foreign dignitaries. Federal officials, senators 
and representatives, flitting between Washington and the 
North. Those were famous repasts that were served to 
distinguished men and brilliant women at the captain's table 
in the saloon of the George Washington. Here the great 
" Expounder of the Constitution " hobnobbed with " Harry 



By the Waters of Chesapeake 27 

of the West," and talked of '' compromise " across the 
deviled crabs. 

The gentry of colonial Maryland, under the 
rule of the earlier Cal verts, lived on the great 
plantations in dwellings that were ac- 
cessible by water. The bay and rivers 
were almost their only highways, and 
the obliterated little thorp of St. Mary's, 
founded on the site of an Indian village, 
was their only city. At home they sat 
on stools and forms and dined without 
forks, cutting their meat with their rapiers. 
But their walls were wainscoted and their cham- 
bers comfortably bedded. 

Tea and coffee they rarely tasted, and sugar 
was a luxury. Cattle stealing was not in 
fashion ; only a sheriff in tent was once charged 
with the offense, while a governor of Virginia 
was convicted ; neither was there ever an execu- 
tion for witchcraft in the province of Maryland. 

While the colonists of New England com- 
monly dispensed with brick and stone in the 
construction of their snug and friendly domi- 
ciles, the planters of Maryland and Virginia 
built themselves substantial structures of im- 
ported brick and aspired' to architectural dis- 
tinctions. One to the manner born who has 
written with loving knowledge of these solid 
and sincere old houses, has told of the noble 
joining of the roof; of the deep, capacious 
window seats and hearthstones ; of great Watch and chain of 
halls that greet you with the largest wel- ^o oma peno . 



28 The Colonists and the Revolution 

come; of stairs that glide rather than cHmh to the floor 
above where is the dancing hall . . . and without, the 
arbor and dove-cote and the prim box-edged garden, with 
its walks so decorous and Dutch-like, but gorgeous with 
lilacs and snowballs, hollyhocks and wallflowers. 

On the broad porch of the manor-house, of an after- 
noon, the planter and his comely dame dozed in their rock- 
ing chairs, while the tall clock in the hall ticked with the 
conscious dignity of leisure. 




A SETTLER IN PENNSYLVANIA 
By Richard Townsend (1682) 

At onr arrival in Pennsylvania we found it a wilder- 
ness; the chief inhabitants were Indians, and some Szvcdes; 
who received us in a friendly manner: and though there 
was a great number of us, the good hand of Providence 
was seen in a particular manner; in that provisions were 
found for us, by the Szvedes, and Indians, at very rea- 
sonable rates, as well as brought from divers other parts, 
that were inhabited before. 

Our first concern was to keep up and maintain our relig- 
ious zvorship; and, in order thereunto, we had several 
meetings, in the houses of the inhabitants; and one 
boarded meeting-house was set up, w^here the city was to 
be, near Delaivare; and, as we had nothing but love and 
good-will, in our hearts, one to another, we had very com- 
fortable meetings, from time to time; and after our meet- 
ing was Ov^er, we assisted each other, in building little 
houses, for our shelter. 

After some time I set up a mill on Chester creek ; which 
I brought ready framed from London; which served for 
grinding of corn, and sawing of boards; and was of great 
use to us. Besides, I, with Joshua Titfery, made a net, 
and caught great quantities of fish; which supplied our- 
selves and many others ; so that, notwithstanding it was 
thought near three thousand persons came in the first year, 
we were so providentially provided for, that we could buy 

29 



30 The Colonists and the Revolution 

a deer for about two shillings, and a large turkey, for 
about one shilling, and Indian corn for about two shillings 
and six pence per bushel. 

And, as our worthy Proprietor (William Penn) treated 
the Indians with extraordinary humanity, they became very 
civil and loving to us, and brought in abundance of veni- 
son. As, in other countries, the Indians were exasperated 
by hard treatment, which hath been the foundation of much 
bloodshed, so the contrary treatment here hath produced 
their love and affection. 

About a year after our arrival, there came in about 
twenty families from high and low Germany, of religious, 
good people ; who settled about six miles from Philadelphia, 
and called the place Gcrmantozvn. — The country con- 
tinually increasing, people began to spread themselves 
further back. — 

About the time, in which Germantown was laid out, I 
settled upon my tract of land, which I had purchased of the 
Proprietor, in England, about a mile from thence; where I 
set up a house and a corn mill ; — which was very useful to 
the country, for several miles round : — But there not being 
plenty of horses, people generally brought their corn on 
their backs many miles. . . . 

As people began to spread, and improve their lands, the 
country became more fruitful; so that those who came 
after us, were plentifully supplied; and with what we 
abounded we began a small trade abroad. And as Phila- 
delphia increased, vessels were built, and many employed. 
Both country and trade have been wonderfully increasing 
to this day; (1682) so that, from a ivilderness, the Lord, 
by his good hand of providence, hath made it a fruitful 
field. 



THE MANY-SIDED FRANKLIN 
By Paul Leicester Ford 

family relations 

" A man," wrote Franklin, " who makes boast of his 
ancestors doth but advertise his own insignificance, for the 
pedigrees of great men are commonly known"; and else- 
where he advised : " Let our fathers and grandfathers be 
valued for their goodness, ourselves for our own." 

Franklin's inquiry into the history of his family resulted 
in the discovery that they had dwelt on some thirty acres 
of their own land in the village of Ecton, in Northamp- 
tonshire, upward of three hundred years, and that for 
many generations the eldest son had been village black- 
smith — a custom so established previous to the removal 
across the Atlantic that the first immigrant bred up his 
eldest son to the trade in Boston. Fate, having other uses 
for Benjamin, carefully guarded him from Vulcan's calling 
by making him the youngest son of the youngest son for 
five generations. 

Benjamin, the " tithe," or tenth, of Josiah's sons, born 
January 6, 1706, outlived them all. From his father he 
derived a heritage difficult to measure, but two of his qual- 
ities were singled out by the son as specially noteworthy: 
'' a sound understanding and solid judgment in prudential 
matters, both in private and publick affairs," and a " me- 
chanic genius " in being " very handy in the use of other 

31 



32 The Colonists and the Revolution 




tradesmen's tools." " It was indeed a lowly dwelling we 
were brought up in," wrote one of the children, many years 

after, " but we were fed 
plentifully, made com- 
fortable with fire and 
clothing, had seldom any 
contention among us, but 
all was harmony, espe- 
cially between the heads, 
and they were universally 
respected, and the most 
of the family in good 
reputation; this is still 
happier living than mul- 
titudes enjoy." 

As this might indicate, 
Josiah Franklin, despite 
his struggle with poverty and his huge family, was a good 
parent to his youngest boy, giving heed to his moral, mental, 
and temporal beginnings. After such brief term of school 
as he could afford the lad, he took him into his own shop, 
till Ben made obvious his dislike to the cutting of wicks, 
the hanging of dips, and the casting of soap. Taking pains 
then to discover his son's preferences, he finally appren- 
ticed him as printer's devil to his son James. 

Jane and Benjamin outlived all their brothers and sisters, 
and Franklin, upon the death of one of the last, said to her: 
" Of these thirteen there now remain but three. As our 
number diminishes, let our affection to each other rather 
increase." 

At seventeen years of age the runaway apprentice had 
left his familv; from that time he saw but little of them. 



Franklin seal. 



The Many-Sided Franklin 33 

As agent for Pennsylvania, and as minister to France, 
Franklin was, save for two short home-comings, continu- 
ously in Europe from 1757 to 1785, and necessarily sepa- 
rated from his wife, and, except as already narrated, from 
his children and grandchildren. Yet of all his kith and kin 
he was undoubtedly truly fond, not merely as relatives, 
but as companions, and not to one does he seem to have 
been lacking in interest and kindness. 

AS POLITICIAN AND DIPLOMATIST 

" The first mistake in public business is the going into 
it," remarked Poor Richard, and the worldly-wdse sage was 
speaking from the '' experience " which keeps a " dear 
school," for Franklin, when he penned the sentence, had 
been over twenty years a public servant. The admonition, 
however, was little heeded, for he continued to hold office 
almost unceasingly to the end of his days. '' I have heard," 
he said, "of some great man whose rule it was, with regard 
to offices, never to ask for them, and never to refuse them; 
to which I have always added, in my own practice, never 
to resign them.'' 

Franklin's entrance into politics may be said to date from 
his beginning to print the Pennsylvania Ga::ette, for he 
relates : " The leading men, seeing a newspaper now in the 
hands of one who could also handle a pen, thought it con- 
venient to oblige and encourage me," and they gave him, as 
already told, the public printing. The same year he se- 
cured the favor of the populace in another way. " About 
this time there was a cry among the people for more paper 
money," and Franklin, taking advantage of it, " wrote and 
printed an anonymous pamphlet . . . entitled ' The 
Nature and Necessity of a Paper-Currency,' " which " was 



34 



The Colonists and the Revolution 



well receiv'd by the common people in general ; but the rich 
men dislik'd it, for it increas'd and strengthened the clamor 
for more money, and they happening to have no writers 
among them that were able to answer it, their opposition 
slacken'd, and the point was carried by a majority in the 
House." In his twenty years' active labor at his press, the 
printer succeeded in making it a producer of wealth; but 
at this time he had yet to learn the lesson that value is made 
by material and labor, and not by words and promises. 
Later in life his intercourse with Hume, Price, Turgot. 
Mirabeau, and, most of all, with Adam Smith, who sub- 
mitted each chapter of 
his "Wealth of Na- 
tions," '* as he composed 
it," to Franklin for dis- 
cussion and criticism, 
opened his eyes to the 
truths that eveiy paper 
dollar issued banishes or 
takes out of circulation 
a metal one, so long as 
there is one left, and 
that beyond that, how- 
ever the printing-presses 
may be worked, there 
will be no more money, 
the total value of the 
mass decreasing as rap- 
idly as the volume is 
swelled, and in excessive 
issues tending even to 
fall so sharply as to pro- 




:<aiaj.'5i>rt^. 



Franklin's monument to his parents, 
Boston, Mass. 



The Many-Sided Franklin 35 

duce an actual contraction, not augmentation, in the stand- 
ard of value. " I lament with you," he told a friend, in 
speaking of the Continental currency, " the many mischiefs, 
the injustice, the corruption of manners, etc., that attended 
a depreciating currency. It is some consolation to me, that 
I washed my hands of that evil by predicting it in Congress, 
and proposing means that would have been effectual to 
prevent it, if they had been adopted. 

'' I now began," Franklin relates, " to turn my thoughts 
a little to public affairs," and in succession set about meth- 
ods for bettering the city watch, the fire service, and some- 
what later, the cleaning and paving of the streets. In 
1737, as already told, he w^as made postmaster of Philadel- 
phia, which brought him forward yet more prominently. 
But most of all it was his pamphlet, " Plain Truth," which, 
though it '' bore somewhat hard on both parties . . 
had the happiness not to give much offense to either," that 
may be said to have made a public man of him. 

From his election to the Assembly dates the real begin- 
ning of Franklin as a political influence, yet in a very brief 
space of time he made himself one of the dominant factors. 
Entering the arena on the question of public defense, he 
was quickly in opposition to the Penn brothers, the propri- 
etors of the colony, the moot point being the question of 
taxing the proprietary lands. 

Warmly attached as Franklin was to Pennsylvania, he 
seems never to have been swayed by local interests, as was 
so common In his time. As early as 1751 he foresaw that 
a union of the colonies was necessary, and was thinking out 
methods for overcoming provincial prejudices and antipa- 
thies, while marveling that the " Six Nations of ignorant 
savages should be capable of forming a scheme for such an 



36 The Colonists and the Revolution 

union, and be able to execute it in such a manner, as that it 
has subsisted ages, and appears indissoluble; and yet that a 
like union should be impracticable for ten or a dozen Eng- 
lish colonies, to whom it is more necessary and must be 
more advantageous, and who cannot be supposed to want 
an equal understanding of their interests." 

Franklin was a warm partizan of the connection between 
Great Britain and her colonies. Even after the Stamp and 
Revenue acts should have showm him how selfishly bent on 
her own narrow interest the mother-country was, he 
ascribed those measures solely to a corrupt Parliament, and 
expressed the hope that '' nothing that has happened, or 
may happen, \\\\\ diminish in the least our loyalty to our 
Sovereign, or affection for this nation in general." Thus 
he wrote when America was ablaze with opposition to the 
parliamentary acts, but still he could assert : 

And yet there remains among the people so much respect, 
veneration, and affection for Britain, that, if cultivated prudently, 
with a kind usage and tenderness for their privileges, they might 
be easily governed still for ages, without force or any considerable 
expense. But I do not see here a sufficient quantity of the wisdom 
that is necessary to produce such a conduct, and I lament the 
want of it. 

In answer to the charge that the colonies desired inde- 
pendence, he replied : " The Americans have too much 
love for their mother-country." 

" This people, however, is too proud, and too much 
despises the Americans, to bear the thought of admitting 
them to such an equitable participation in the government 
of the whole." '' Every man in England," he complained, 
** seems to consider himself a piece of a sovereign over 




Franklin landing at Market Street wharf, Philadelphia, on his return 
from France, 1785. 



38 The Colonists and the Revolution 

America; seems to jostle himself into the throne with the 
King, and talks of our subjects in the colonies/' and with 
real indignation he charged that " angry writers use their 
utmost efforts to persuade us that this war with the colo- 
nies (for a war it will be) is a national cause, when in fact 
it is a ministerial one." The British, he maintained, " have 
no idea that any people can act from any other principle 
but that of interest; and they believe that three pence in 
a pound of tea, of which one does perhaps drink ten pounds 
in a year, is sufficient to overcome all the patriotism of an 
American." 

If but the people could be kept quiet for a time, Frank- 
lin held, the outcome could not be doubtful. " It must be 
evident," he affirmed, " that by our rapidly increasing 
strength, we shall soon become of so much importance 
that none of our just claims of privilege wall be, as here- 
tofore, unattended to, nor any security we can wish for our 
rights be denied us." 

However much he might counsel moderate opposition and 
even temporary submission, he did so because he believed 
it the most certain way of obtaining justice from Great 
Britain, and not because he thought her conduct either pru- 
dent or justifiable. Long before the attempt to tax the col- 
onies, and, so far as known, before any other American 
had protested against such a course, he claimed that " It is 
supposed to be an undoubted right of Englishmen not to be 
taxed but by their own consent given through their repre- 
sentatives." 

How strongly he felt the rights of his native land was 
shown by something else he wrote at this time, in which 
he asserted that : 



The Many-Sided Franklin 39 

I can only judge of others by myself. I have some little prop- 
erty in America. I will freely spend nineteen shillings in the 
pound to defend the right of giving or refusing the other shilling, 
and, after all, if I cannot defend that right, I can retire cheerfully 
with my little family into the boundless woods of America, which 
are sure to afford freedom and subsistence to any man who can 
bait a hook or pull a trigger. 

As Franklin had been among the first to suggest a union 
of the colonies under Great Britain, so he was foremost 
in advocating their immediate union in their contest with 
the mother-country; and long before the majority of Con- 
gress saw the wisdom of the purpose, or were even willing 
to consider it, he drafted and laid before that body his 
Articles of Confederation, the first true step toward a 
national union. In the politics of Pennsylvania, too, he 
wielded a most dominating influence, for it was chiefly 
through his exertions that the old Penn charter was abro- 
gated, and a new republican constitution obtained in its stead. 

Vital as were his labors in local politics, in the Congress, 
in Canada, at Cambridge, and at Staten Island, he was more 
needed, and in fact seems to have been preordained by na- 
ture and training, for another service. Once the war, from 
being an attempt to wrest rights from an acknowledged 
sovereign, became a conflict to maintain independence, the 
new-formed country turned for assistance to France, then 
the great enemy of Britain. Almost alone of the con- 
gressmen, Franklin had traveled in that country, and had 
both friends and repute there. Even more important, how- 
ever, was the fact that already semi-approaches had been 
made to him by those in authority. Years before, when 
the excitement over the new doctrine of colonial taxation 



40 The Colonists and the Revolution 

was sounding a warning which the British people would 
not hear, there were others quick to heed the murmur of 
discontent and complaint, and to recognize in it a means 
for injuring their foe as they had never yet been able to 
do. 

When Franklin was sailing across the Atlantic, one of 
three commissioners sent to beg the aid of France, an Eng- 
li3h friend chided him for disloyalty. He replied : 

I was fond to a folly of our British connections, and it was 
with infinite regret that I saw the necessity you would force us 
into of breaking it. But the extreme cruelty with which we have 

--r—^ been treated has now ex- 



MODES 'i* 



V 



ure 



u 



r% 



V 



T K^ 



aad 



Nece^ttj 

O ? A : 

PAP-EJl- C'URR E NC T. 



] Ut'h Nunimis hahet : 
r 'Jiji^'ii.tiu clargir: dcctM, 



latriie^ cbarifq:^ propmojiii 



\ V 



SvSS.J'Z 



^ctL 



OK 



'lintci and >\^M .-a the Nc\y p ?.. I M T IN G- 
.licar the Luikct-. 1729. ' 





tinguished every thought 
of returning to it, and 
separated us for ever. 
You have thereby lost 
limbs that will never 
grow again. 

It has been said of 
Franklin by the his- 
torian of American di- 
plomacy that he must 
be considered the one 
true diplomat America 
has ever produced ; and 
when his services, and 
the circumstances un- 
der which they were 
rendered, are weighed, 
the statement seems 
justifiable. Almost from 
the moment of his ar- 



The Many-Sided Franklin 



41 



[ What is Saoce tor a Gixjfc is ahb Seucs for a Gandei.[^^ ' 
B E 1 N o 

A fmail Touch in the L a p i d a R v Way, ^ .} 
O R 

Tit for Tat, in your own Way. 



I An epitaph! 

On a certain great. Man. 
Written by a departed Spirit ari'l novv 

I Moll humbly infcrib'd to all his dutiful Sons and Cliiidi ... ^j,,. 
Who may hereafter chofe to diftinguiih him by the Name o( j 

A PATRIOT. 



iDear Chiidren, 



rival in Paris, he 
came to exercise an 
influence with the 
then French ministry 
which can hardly be 
exaggerated. 

AS WRITER AND JOUR- 
NALIST 

Franklin's grand- 
father on the mater- 
nal side, and his uncle, 
were both confirmed 
scribblers of rime, and 
therefore it was seem- 
ingly preordained by 
heritage and by ex- 
ample that he should 
write. 

On a March night 
in the year 1722, or 
when the lad was six- 
teen years of age, he 
slipped a paper under Political pamphlet against Franklin. 

the door of what James Franklin advertised as his " Print- 
ing-House over against Mr. Sheaf's School, near the Pris- 
on," and then stole away. The next day, as the apprentice 
stood at his type-case, he could hear his brother consulting 
with the " ingenious men among his friends, who amus'd 
themselves by writing little pieces " for the paper, as to who 
could be the author of the sheets with the humble signature 
of " Silence Dogood/' and it is easy to imagine his pride 



I fend y«iu here a little Book 
For you to look, upon, 
That you may fee your Pafff^t Face 
When be is dead aud gone. 



»^0 



Tiou haft taught us iojptak Evil of Dignities. 

'hiladelphia, printed in the Year i7<^4- 



42 The Colonists and the Revolution 

when he heard the essay praised by them; when the piece 
appeared in all the glory of type in the Nezv England 
Courant, and when his eye met the notice in the same issue 
that " As the favour of. Mrs. Dogood's Correspondence is 
acknowledged by the Publisher of this Paper, lest any of 
her Letters should miscarry, he desires they may be de- 
liver'd at his Printing-Office, or at the Blue Balls in Union 
street, and no questions will be ask'd of the Bearer." 

The wandering life of the runaway apprentice gave slight 
opportunity for the cultivation of his pen-talent, and, save 
for his little " wicked tract," the succeeding years were 
lean ones in production. But once Franklin was estab- 
lished in Philadelphia as a printer, the tendency to write 
redeveloped, and proved of real service to him. In the 
first year of the new firm he wrote a little pamphlet on a 
local issue, entitled, '' The Nature and Necessity of a Paper 
Currency," and the opposition *' happening to have no wri- 
ters among them that were able to answer it*" the party 
in favor of an issue of paper money carried their point in 
the Assembly. *' My friends there, who conceiv'd that I 
had been of some service, thought fit to reward me by em- 
ploying me in printing the money ; a very profitable jobb 
and a great help to me. This was another advantage gain'd 
by my being able to write." 

Franklin's share in the Gaj^ette was far more than 
gathering news. The editorial was a yet unknown feature 
of journalism, but he often added to his items little com- 
ments or explanations. When there was an empty column, 
he wrote an essay, letter, poem, or anything else to fill it. 
Forestalling modern journalism, he asked a question, and 
then proceeded to answer it at length. 

Far more than a good style went to make up Franklin's 



The Many-Sided Franklin 43 

success as a writer. Poor Richard had distinct Hterary 

ease; he was never at a loss for an aphorism, simile, or 

story to illustrate or strengthen an argument; could take 

another man's idea and improve upon it; could refute a 

whole argument by a dozen words 

scribbled in the margin, and imitate 

other and bygone styles of writing 

at will. On this facility he drew 

heavily as he stepped into public 

life. 




The stock argument of the Eng- P^i"^ by Franklin, 

lish writers who maintained that Parliament possessed su- 
preme authority over America was that the colonists, had 
they remained in Great Britain, would have been absolutely 
subject to its laws, and that emigration had not changed 
this condition. To show the utter absurdity of this claim, 
Franklin drafted what purported to be an edict of the 
Prussian king, which began in due form, " Frederic by the 
Grace of God, King of Prussia, etc, etc, etc.," and then 
continued : 

Whereas it is well known to all the world, that the first German 
settlements made in the Island of Britain, were by colonies of 
people, subject to our renowned ducal ancestors, and drawn from 
their dominions, under the conduct of Hengist, Horsa, Hella, Uffa, 
Cerdicus, Ida, and others; and that the said colonies have flour- 
ished under the protection of our august house for ages past; 
have never been emancipated therefrom; and yet have hitherto 
yielded little profit to the same ; and whereas we ourself have in 
the last war fought for and defended the said colonies, against 
the power of France, and thereby enabled them to make conquests 
from the said power in America, for which we have not yet received 
adequate compensation; and whereas it is just and expedient that 
a revenue should be raised from the said colonies in Britain, 



44 The Colonists and the Revolution 

towards our indemnification ; and that those who are descendants 
of our ancient subjects, and thence still owe us due obedience, 
should contribute to the replenishing of our royal coffers (as 
they must have done, had their ancestors remained in the terri- 
tories now to us appertaining) ; we do therefore hereby ordain 
and command, that, from and after the date of these presents, 
there shall be levied and paid to our officers of the customs, on 
all goods, wares, and merchandises, and on all grain and other 
produce of the earth, exported from the said Island of Britain, 
and on all goods of whatever kind imported into the same, a duty 
of four and a half per cent ad valorem, for the use of us and 
our successors. 

The edict, its author affirmed, was written to attract at- 
tention by its " out-of-the-way " form as " most likely to 
take the general attention," and in this it was an entire suc- 
cess. It was printed in the Public Advertiser, and Frank- 
lin wrote a friend that he could not send him one, be- 
cause " though my clerk went the next morning to the 
printer's and wherever they were sold," the edition of the 
paper had been exhausted. In consequence, the piece was 
reprinted by request in a subsequent issue, and was gener- 
ally reprinted in other papers and in the magazines. " I 
am not suspected as the author," the cozener told a corre- 
spondent, " except by one or two friends ; and we have 
heard the latter spoken of in the highest terms, as the keen- 
est and severest piece that has appeared here for a long 
time. Lord Mansfield, I hear, said of it, that it zvas very 
ABLE and very ARTFUL indeed; and would do mischief 
by giving here a bad impression of the measures of govern- 
ment ; and in the colonies, by encotiraging them in their 
contumacy. . . . What made it the more noticed here, 
was that people in reading it were, as the phrase is, taken 
in, till they had got half through it, and imagined it a real 



The Many-Sided Franklin 



45 



edict, to which mistake I suppose the king of Prussia's 
character must have contributed." 

The autobiography, the most famous of all his writings, 
is of peculiar interest, not merely as a story of his life, but 
because it is his only real endeavor to write a book. 

To judge Franklin from the literary standpoint is neither 









I. And it came to pafs after thelc 


do not woHhip thy God, 


neither (io I ea)! 


ihinga, that Abraham fat in the door of 


Bfon his n.-'Jiie; for ! 


have made to 


his tent, about the going down of the fun. 


myfelf a god. which abidcih jlwajT ir 


i. And beheld a mar. bent with age. 


mine houfe, and prmid 


th me v.ilh all 


:oming from the way of the wildernefs 


• things.. 




leaning on a ftafT, 


8. And Abraham's zeal 


waJl kindieti J. 


3- And Abraham arofe. and met him. 


piinft the man, ai.d he 


arofe, and fel! 


and faid unto him, Turn in, I pray thee. 


upr.u hir.i. and drove him 


forth *ith 1jIow5 


ind wafh thy feet, and tarry aU night, and 


iiloLSev.iHcrnefs. 




thou (halt arife early in the roorninj, and 


9. And God cilled lint 


D AbrahajT.. fav 


go on thy v., ,y. 


i, 5 ■ ; ril„.i-., where L= the flra.i.;> r ? 


4. And tlic man faid. N.iy ; for i v.il! a- 


:, i •w.h!,m anfwc.:Jan.l faid, 


bide .inder this wa 


L ,, i/ ...uld n..t vorihip tlite. -niiUitr 


^'. 5. But Abrah.im |)rcflcd him greatly: 


v.ulll:,.c..!l upon thy 


name: therefore 


■ ( fo he turned, and they went into the tent ; 


have r driv,M Inn. out 


from befcre .-ny 


•'; andAbrah.™ baked unlc.-ivened br, id. 


ticc into the wildernrfs. 


S and they did eat. 


1 \. And God ';-Ji lia 


• I born.- uit]. 


6. And when Abraham Ciw that the 


him thee l:a:vh...l vni r 


nety and ti,»hi 
.. ,ind eklthe.) 


; < man bleffed not Cod, he faid unto him. 


years, l.-;.i noi-ilne-d hir 


, '1- Wherefore doft thou not worlhip die mo,> 


Kim, iiotvitiiil^ridinn hi,; 


rebeUion agoinf 

. who jrt t(ivr»lf 


; high God, Creator of heaven and earth ? 


iT.e: ,ind cojidll not ihoi, 


,: 7, And the man anfwer^ and faid. I 

J; 

.1. 
. '< 


.ii-nr- t J- nith lumen- night • ""■ 




Franklin's fictitious chapter of the Bible usually styled a parable 
against persecution. 



easy nor quite fair. It is not to, be denied that as a philos- 
opher, as a statesman, and as a friend, he owed much of 
his success to his ability as a writer. His letters charmed 
all, and made his correspondence eagerly sought. His po- 
litical arguments were the joy of his party and the dread 
of his opponents. His scientific discoveries were explained 
in language at once so simple and so clear that plow-boy 



46 The Colonists and the Revolution 

and exquisite could follow his thought or his experiment 
to its conclusion. Yet he was never a literary man in the 
true and common meaning of the term. Omitting his un- 
completed autobiography and his scientific writings, there is 
hardly a line of his pen which was not privately or anony- 
mously written, to exert a transient influence, fill an empty 
column, or please a friend. The larger part of his work 
was not only done in haste, but never revised or even proof- 
read. Yet this self-educated boy and busy, practical man 
gave to American literature the most popular autobiogra- 
phy ever written, a series of political and social satires 
that can bear comparison w-ith those of the greatest sati- 
rists, a private correspondence as readable as Walpole's or 
Chesterfield's; and the collection of Poor Richard's epi- 
grams has been oftener printed and translated than any 
other production of an American pen. 
Yet Franklin himself asserted: 

He that can compose himself, is wiser than he that composes 
books. 







PHILADELPHIA 
By Talcott Williams 

States and cities exist to make families comfortable, be- 
cause this makes children comfortable. Unless the chil- 
dren are comfortable now, the next generation will fare ill. 
If you are comfortably seated; if you have light enough on 
these lines ; if the air about you is pure ; if you find the house 
you are in a true home, be it large or small; if the street is 
safe for you at all hours of the day or evening; if it is, as 
nearly as may be, like a village street, quiet and clean, and 
not like a city street, noisy and noisome; if there is room 
for you to play outside the house, and room inside its walls 
to amuse yourself; if you are fed and warm, and happy — 
above all, if you feel in your house an atmosphere of 
security, and understand in a dim way that father and 
mother own the spot called home and are safe there, then, 
as far as you are concerned, — and to the extent that this is 
true as far as all children are concerned, — the United 
States is a success. Unless there are a great many more of 
you children enjoying all I have said than are without such 
comforts, then the United States is a failure, no matter 
how big, or how rich, or how populous it may be, or how 
glorious its history. The United States is here first, and 
chiefly, not to make history, as you might imagine from your 
school histories, but to make families and their children 
comfortable in houses of their own. Failing to do that, it 
fails in all. 

47 



48 The Colonists and the Revolution 










Philadelphia in 1720. 

I propose to tell you of a city which for more than two 
hundred years has grown so as to make families more and 
more comfortable; so as to set each in its own house; so as 
to make life easier and easier for the average ordinary 
family which is neither rich nor poor, which wins its way 
by work, owns the roof over its head, and stands secure in 
modest, unquestioned independence. Philadelphia is a 
dingy city by the side of Paris; it is outdone by most of the 
world's centers in all by which the world reckons greatness ; 
but no city that is, or ever was, has done more to make 
families, and therefore children, comfortable. 

Philadelphia came late among American cities. It was 
founded 58 years after New York, 50 years after Boston. 
The voyage had few risks, and no suffering. William 
Penn, in 1681, came on no exploring expedition. For al- 
most the first time in history, a new city was to be laid out 
by amicable purchase, and not by conquest. We are used 
to this now. It was an altogether new thing two hundred 
years ago. The day for Indian fighting along the coast was 
practically over. The sea-coast was known. There were 
no discoveries to be made. The land was secure. Eng- 
land held it without a rival. The little Dutch and Swedish 
settlements on Delaware Bay, and Philadelphia's future 
site, were glad to come under the English flag. Almost 
the only trace left of either is the Swedes' church, the oldest 



Philadelphia 



49 



in the city, for all the world like those you may see on 
Swedish fiords to-day. 

Penn sat in London over maps and plans, and laid out his 
new city on paper just as " boom " towns are laid out to- 
day in the West and South. He knew the ground. He 
understood its advantages. No seaboard river carried navi- 
gation so far inland. The Southern rivers were shallower. 




Old map of Pennsylvania. 



50 The Colonists and the Revolution 

The Hudson ended in impenetrable forest. On the Dela- 
ware vessels stopped between the fattest fields along the 
whole coast. The very soil of the narrow peninsula be- 
tween the Delaware and the Schuylkill is the only fertile 




Old Swedish church. 



city site on our coast. It lies far enough south to gain the 
teeming life of fin and feather that fills the coasts and 
waters of the south Atlantic. You can still stand on the 
steps of Independence Hall on a still October day, and hear 
the crack of fowling-pieces among the reed-birds on the 
river. 

Within the memory of men not old the chief meat-sup- 



Philadelphia 51 

ply of the city was fattened on the flat rich farms which 
make up the " neck " where the Delaware and the Schuyl- 
kill meet. The land around Philadelphia is to-day a vast 
kitchen-garden. It always has raised more food than any 
area as large around any other of our great or growing 
cities. Lastly, just beyond these two rich river valleys lie 
the first Western wheat-fields, in the fertile stretch of Dela- 
ware, Chester, Montgomery, and Lancaster counties. 

The farms of these counties fed the army of Washing- 
ton. His baker-general was a Pennsylvania German, 
Christopher Ludwig, who after a youth spent in fighting the 
Turk on the Danube, sold gingerbread to the boys of the 
Revolution, in Letitia Street. Beginning by baking bread 
at Valley Forge, he ended by baking six thousand pound- 
loaves for the surrendered army of Cornwallis at York- 
town. Uncle Sam's wheat- farm, which has cheapened the 
world's bread, began at the doors of Philadelphia. It was 
the first city to get rich selling wheat. Pennsylvania farms 
gave it the first big, rich, thickly settled '' back-country," on 
whose trade an American city grew great. Under the first 
President Adams, Lancaster, Pa., was the biggest American 
city back of the sea-coast. In 1890 instead of the first it 
was the sixty-first of such cities in population. 

All this meant foreign trade and swift growth for Phila- 
delphia. In its first forty years it grew faster than any 
other American city in its first hundred. It was the 
Chicago of the last century. In twenty years 2500 houses 
went up. The like was never seen before. It has often 
happened since. Money was made easily. A bright boy 
of seventeen like Benjamin Franklin could walk up Market 
Street in 1723 with two loaves of bread under his arm, and 
brains in his head, and in fifteen years become rich. Five 




52 The Colonists and the Revolution 

*^ years later he had retired 

[ from business, and had 

begun flying the kite, the 
spark from whose string 
tokl the world that elec- 
tricity and lightning were 
one. In a town given 
to money-making, he 
stopped money-making at 
forty years of age and 
did something better — 
he served his fellowmen : 
He made scientific discov- 
, ihriMiMWiii i ii^^ '"^ eries ; he invented a new 

Portrait of William ] > gtove ; he got together the 

twenty-second year. . . 

first American scientific 
society ; he started a fire-company ; he organized the Phila- 
delphia police ; he founded a library ; he helped start a 
university; he turned men's thoughts to books, study, and 
knowledge. When the Revolution came he was old and 
rich. He put all at stake in his country's service. He was 
the only American who signed the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, the Treaty of Peace, and the Constitution. He 
gave Philadelphia the one other thing which makes cities 
great : in him a great man had walked her streets. 

Franklin's fortune was not the only one made in Phila- 
delphia, a hundred and fifty years ago, in a trade as large 
as that of any two other American cities. Fifty years after 
Philadelphia was founded, it built the largest public build- 
ing any American city had ever erected, the State House, 
now Independence Hall,- — as it has to-day, in its city hall, 
the most costly. The Declaration of Independence was is- 



Philadelphia 



53 



sued from the Pennsylvania State House because it was 
natural for the Continental Congress to meet in the largest, 
the wealthiest, and the most thriving of American cities, 
and to sit in the most imposing building in the thirteen 
colonies. It was not until the Erie Canal gave New York 
the trade of the West beyond the Alleghanies, that it be- 
came a larger city than Philadelphia. 

Philadelphia, first of American cities, received people 
skilled in all the crafts of central Europe, which two cen- 
turies ago was ahead of England in making things. It is 
not now. If you will open your Physical Geography at 
the map of Europe, you will see a deep groove right down 
the Rhine to Lake Constance, and then bv the Rhone to the 





Penn's house in Letitia Court. 



Mediterranean, while another groove runs east by the Dan- 
ube. This groove, in the Middle Ages, when the pirate 



54 The Colonists and the Revolution 

Norsemen closed the seas to peaceful folks, was the great 
highway of Europe. In it sprang up earliest cathedrals, 
universities, and factories. Right from the center of this 
industrial channel, there came to Philadelphia a German 



|:g|p^. 




"% 



f&r' 






Independence Hall, at the time of the Signing of the Declaration of 

Independence. 

immigration, skilled in weaving, in iron, and in all the in- 
dustries of two hundred years ago. 

The English immigration, also, while it was led by Quak- 
ers, — good business men all, people who paid their debts, 
told no trade lies, and had one price for all, — was made 
up of men and women from the cities of southern England. 
At that time, pretty nearly all the cities and most of the 
manufacturers of England were in its southern half. They 



Philadelphia 



55 



are not now. While New England and the South drew 
their immigration from country England, the incomers to 
Philadelphia and Pennsylvania were from the cities, the 
stores, and the shops of south England. When you look 
on the map of Philadelphia to-day, you see London names 




Franklin's grave, Fifth and Arch streets, Philadelphia. 

— Richmond, Kensington, and Southwark ; and the largest 
places near are Bristol and Chester, named after the busiest 
ports of England in the seventeenth century. When you 
have your big town, some one must own the land and 
the houses. If a few own them, the many will not like 
it. They ought not to like it. In a city where every- 
thing is right, every family will own something. That 
city is most near to the right thing where the most peo- 



56 The Colonists and the Revolution 

pie own something. This will not come about unless the 
laws are right. The laws are not good unless bread is 
cheap, unless men have skill in their work, and are of saving 
habits, and unless land is cheap, the city plan good, and 
wrong-doers are locked up at once. But all these things 
will not bring about the right city, in which most people 
own something, unless the laws make it easy for a man 
who works with his hands to buy the house he lives in. 
If a man owns that, he will be interested in looking after his 
home and will not complain because some one else is richer 
than he is. 

Cheap food and industry will not make the families in a 
city comfortable unless a city has room to grow, is well 
planned, and wisely governs itself. Philadelphia is fortu- 
nate in all three respects. The site is flat. All directions 
are open to growth. It is not cramped by river and bay, 
as are Boston and San Francisco. It is not on an island, 
as is New York. Swamps do not hedge it in as they pen 
Chicago. Building land, city lots, have always cost less and 
been more nearly of about the same price in its different 
quarters, than in any other city of a million people ever 
seen. The growth of the city has never been crowded. It 
has spread out in two- or three-story fashion over an oc- 
cupied area which comes close to that of London itself. 
English towns, laid out on the lines of old Roman camps, 
with a Broad and a High street crossing each other at right 
angles, and lesser streets crossing each other checkerboard 
fashion, gave Penn the thought of his plan for Philadelphia. 



THE WALKING PURCHASE 
By George Wheeler 

In the early twilight of a September morning, more than 
one hundred and sixty years ago, a remarkable company 
might have been seen gathering about a large chestnut-tree 
at the cross-roads near the Friends' meeting-house in 
Wrightstown, Pennsylvania. It is doubtful whether any 
one of us could have guessed what the meeting meant. 
Most of the party were Quakers in wide-brimmed hats 
and plain dress, and if it had been First-day instead of 
Third-day, we might have thought they were gathering un- 
der the well-known tree for a neighborly chat before " meet- 
ing." Nor was it a warlike rendezvous; for the war-cry 
of the Lenni-Lenape had never yet been raised against the 
"Children of Mignon " (Elder Brother), as the followers 
of William Penn were called; and in a little group some- 
what apart were a few athletic Indians in peaceful garb 
and friendly attitude. But it evidently was an important 
meeting, for here were several prominent officials, includ- 
ing even so notable a person as Proprietor Thomas Penn. 

In 1686, fifty-one years before this, William Penn 
bought from the Lenni-Lenape, or Delaware Indians, a sec- 
tion bounded on the east by the Delaware, on the west by 
the Neshaminy, and extending to the north from his previ- 
ous purchases '' as far as a man can go in a day and a half." 
No effort was made to fix the northern boundary until the 
Indians, becoming uneasy at the encroachments of the set- 

57 



58 The Colonists and the Revolution 

tiers, asked to have the hue dehnitely marked. On August 
25, 1737, after several conferences between the Delawares 
and William Penn's sons, John and Thomas, who, after their 
father's death, became proprietors of Pennsylvania, the 
treaty of 1686 was confirmed, and a day was appointed for 
beginning the walk. This explains why the crowd was 
gathering about the old chestnut-tree in the early dawn of 
that day, September 19, 1737. 

Philadelphia colonists. 

"Ready!" called out Sheriff Smith. 

At the word, James Yeates, a native of New England, 
'' tall, slim, of much ability and speed of foot," Solomon 
Jennings, " a remarkably stout and strong man," and 
Edward Marshall, a well-known hunter, over six feet tall, 
and noted as a walker, stepped from the crowd and placed 
their right hands upon the tree. 

Thomas Penn had promised five pounds in money and 
five hundred acres of land to the walker who covered the 
greatest distance; and these three men were to contest for 
the prize. Just as the edge of the sun showed above the 
horizon. Sheriff Smith gave the word, and the race began. 

Yeates quickly took up the lead, stepping lightly. Then 
came Jennings, accompanied by two Indians, who were 
there to see that the walking was fairly done. Closely fol- 
lowing them were men on horseback, including the sheriff 



59 




The three men stepped from the crowd and placed their right hands 

upon the tree. 



6o The Colonists and the Revolution 

and the surveyor-general. Thomas Penn himself followed 
the party for some distance. Far in the rear came Mar- 
shall, walking in a careless manner, swinging a hatchet in 
one hand, '' to balance himself," and at intervals munching 
a dry biscuit, of which he carried a small supply. He 
seemed to have forgotten a resolution he had made to '' win 
the prize of five hundred acres of land, or lose his life in 
the attempt." 

Thomas Penn had secretly sent out a preliminary party 
to blaze the trees along the line of the walk for as great a 
distance as it was thought possible for a man to walk in 
eighteen hours. So, when the wilderness was reached, the 
walkers still had the. best and most direct course clearly 
marked out for them. The Indians soon protested against 
the speed, saying over and over : " That's not fair. You 
run. You were to walk." But the treaty said, " As far as 
a man can go," and the walkers were following it in letter, 
if not in spirit, as they hurried along. Their protests be- 
ing disregarded, the Indians endeavored to delay the prog- 
ress by stopping to rest; but the white men dismounted, 
and allow^ed the Indians to ride, and thus pushed on as 
rapidly as ever. At last the Indians refused to go any far- 
ther, and left the party. 

Before Lehigh River was reached Jennings was ex- 
hausted, gave up the race, and lagged behind in the com- 
pany of followers. His health was shattered, and he lived 
only a few years. 

That night the party slept on the north side of the Lehigh 
Mountains, half a mile from the Indian village of Hoken- 
dauqua. Next morning, while some of the party searched 
for the horses which had strayed away during the night, 
others went to the village to request Lappawinzoe, the 



The Walking Purchase 61 

chief, to send other Indians to accompany the walkers. He 
angrily replied : " You have all the good land now, and 
you may as well take the bad, too." One old Indian, in- 
dignant at the stories of how the white men rushed along 
in their greed to get as much land as possible, remarked 
in a tone of deep disgust: "No sit down to smoke; no 
shoot squirrel; but lun, lun, lun, all day long." 

Scarcely had the last half-day's walk begun before 
Yeates, who was a drinking man, w^as overcome by the 
tremendous exertions and intemperance of the previous 
day. He stumbled at the edge of Big Creek, and rolled, 
helpless, down the bank into the water. When rescued he 
was entirely blind, and his death followed within three 
days. 

Marshall still pressed on. Passing the last of the blazed 
trees which had hitherto guided him, he seized a compass 
offered by Surveyor-General Eastburn, and by its aid still 
continued his onward course. At last. Sheriff Smith, who 
for some time had frequently looked at his watch, called, 
" Halt! " Marshall instantly threw himself at full length, 
anl grasped a sapling. Here was the starting-point for the 
northern boundary of the purchase of 1686, sixty-eight 
miles from the old chestnut-tree at Wrightstown, and very 
close to where Mauch Chunk stands to-day. The walk was 
twice as long as the Indians expected it to be. 

Unfortunately for the Delawares, they knew too little of 
legal technicalities to notice that the deed did not state in 
what direction the northern boundary was to be drawn. 
They naturally expected it to be drawn to the nearest point 
on the Delaware. But the surveyor-general, to please 
Penn, decided that the line should run at right angles to the 
direction of the walk, which was almost exactly northwest. 



The Walking Purchase 63 

Draw a line from Mauch Chunk to the Delaware so that if 
extended it would pass through New York City, and another 
to the point where New York, New Jersey, and Pennsyl- 
vania meet. The first Is the Indian's idea of the just way 
to lay out the northern boundary; the second is the line 
which Surveyor-General Eastburn actually finished mark- 
ing out in four days after Marshall's walk ended. 

And so the three hundred thousand acres which the In- 
dians would have given to the Penns as the result of Mar- 
shall's walk were increased to half a million by taking self- 
ish advantage of a flaw in the deed. 

The Lenni-Lenape had loved and trusted William Penn 
because he always dealt openly and fairly with them. 
" We will live in love with William Penn and his children," 
said they, " as long as the sun and moon shall shine." But 
the w^rongs inflicted on them in the '' walking purchase " 
aroused the deepest indignation. '' Next May," said Lap- 
pawinzoe, '' we will go to Philadelphia, each one with a 
buckskin to repay the presents and take back our land 
again." It was too late, however, for this to be done. 

At last, in 1741, the Indians determined to resort to arms 
to secure justice. But the Iroquois, to wdiom the Dela wares 
had long been subject, came to the aid of the Penns, and 
the last hope of righting the wrong was gone forever. 

There seems a sort of poetic justice in the latter expe- 
riences of the principal men in the affair. Marshall never 
got his five hundred acres of land, and his wife was killed 
in an attack by the Indians. Eastburn was repudiated by 
Thomas Penn, and his heirs were notified that they " need 
not expect the least favor." Penn himself was brought 
before the king and forced to disown many of his acts and 
agents in a most humiliating manner. 



64 The Colonists and the Revolution 

But all this did not repair the injury to the Delawares, 
and they never again owned, as a tribe, a single inch along 
the river from which they took their name. 

A small monument, erected by the Bucks County Histori- 
cal Society, marks the spot where the old chestnut-tree 
formerly stood. In order that this might not seem to con- 
done an unworthy deed, the monument was dedicated, not 
to those who made or conducted the walk, but to the Lenni- 
Lenape Indians — '' not to the wrong, but to the persons 
WTonged." 

The inscription on the stone reads : 



TO THE MEMORY OF THE LENNI-LENAPE INDIANS, 
ANCIENT OWNERS OF THIS REGION, 
THESE STONES ARE PLACED AT 
THIS SPOT, THE STARTING- 
POINT OF THE 



" INDIAN WALK," 

September 19, 1737. 



DUTCH CHARACTERISTICS 
By Mrs. Schuyler Van Rensselaer 

The general characteristics of the Dutch as contrasted 
with the English settlers of North America are interesting. 
None is more striking or more admirable than the Dutch- 
man's broad-mindedness in matters of conscience and 
opinion. 

In the statute-books of New Amsterdam certain pages 
were honorably blank which in those of Boston were closely 
inscribed, sometimes in letters of blood. New Amsterdam, 
for instance, had no undemocratic sumptuary laws distin- 
guishing between the permissible attire of the richer and 
the less rich. It did not fight against the joys of '' tobacco- 
taking." It did not forbid " unprofitable fowling, dancing, 
card-playing," and other possibly innocent forms of amuse- 
ment, but only said they should not be pursued during serv- 
ice time on the Sabbath. It did not believe in witches ; and 
it left the affairs of a man with his God to be settled by 
God and the man. 

Religious liberty and equality, in our modern and Amer- 
ican sense, did not exist even in Holland, the one existing 
republic of the seventeenth century. But the generous re- 
ligious tolerance which did exist there was so phenomenal 
that it brought out scorn and wrath from every other land, 
and from men of every sect — from the English Prot- 
estants, w^ho profited greatly by it, as well as from continen- 
5 ^ 65 



66 The Colonists and the Revolution 

tal Catholics and Lutherans. And the temper of New 
Netherland was the temper of its fatherland. 

Every one knows that a government like that of early- 
Massachusetts, integrally uniting Church and State, could 
have been built on none but a stiff sectarian basis. But it 
should be remembered that this government was the out- 
come, not the cause, of Puritan intolerance. The differing 
spirit of New Netherland was not rooted in its differing 
form of government. It ran back of this to the spirit of 
Dutch Protestantism at home. If the Dutch of the New 
World had been allowed to rule themselves, as were the 
men of Massachusetts Bay, they would have planted no 
theocracies; and it hardly needs to be said that the work- 
ings of New England theocracies were hateful in their eyes. 
Holland's large-heartedness excited Puritan rage; but Puri- 
tan narrow-mindedness provoked New Netherland's wonder 
and contempt. Loud Dutch laughter must have greeted the 
report of ordinances such as that which empowered the 
Massachusetts General Court to proceed against all holders 
of erroneous or unsafe opinions, carefully tabulated to the 
number of eighty-two; and we can guess what Dutch com- 
mon sense and Dutch hospitality thought about the case 
of the respectable '' gentlemen " who, as Governor Win- 
throp recounts, came to Boston's doors in 1630, but were 
'' turned away " because they could produce no ecclesiasti- 
cal '' credentials." 

In New Netherland the official theory was that only the 
State Church, the Reformed Church of Holland, should be 
supported or definitely countenanced by the government, 
and that, if the government should see fit to forbid any 
other forms of public worship, they should be held unlawful. 
But in practice complete toleration was allowed. No pro- 




Dutch Characteristics 67 

hibitions of any sort were formulated until Governor Stuy- 
vesant got the chance ; then he was not supported by his own 
people, and was rebuked and restrained by his superiors in 
Holland; and in New Netherland the question of ortho- 
doxy never complicated the question of political liberty, 
as it did in Massachusetts and New Haven. 

In the time of Governor Kieft New Amsterdam and the 
neighboring settlements _^^-^^ 

gladly received as perma- 
nent residents all the 
heretics who were forced 
or who chose to fly 
from Massachusetts — 
those who had openly as- 
sailed the sacro-sanctity 
of its government, as ^^'^^"^ ^^'^ s"eufer^s^ ^^'^^ ^"^""^ 
well as those who had 

confined themselves to transcendental theorizings. Gover- 
nor Winthrop says that many people left Massachusetts at 
this time because of hard material conditions. 

With all their faults, the Puritans were the finest product 
of seventeenth-century England. John Milton spoke of 
their emigration to New England as " the departure of so 
many of the best"; and even their adversaries in State 
and Church realized what the motherland was losing when 
they sailed in such numbers, and tried to restrict the swell- 
ing tide. If Holland had likewise sent its very best, and by 
the tens of thousands, New Netherland might have out- 
stripped New England in material and in intellectual ways ; 
for the best Hollanders of that time had most of the virtues 
of the Puritan without his deep defects. But Hollanders 
were nowhere planting colonies for the sake of founding 



68 The Colonists and the Revolution 

new commonwealths, or for the sake of the colonies them- 
selves — only for the sake of the profit to be derived from 
them. And those who emigrated were not going in throngs 
because of political or religious discontent. They were be- 
ing sent abroad in very small bands because of the service 
they might render to Holland's commerce, and, through 
this, to its growing jealousy of England and its long-cher- 
ished hate of Spain; and it was hard to find any who 
would consent to go. Ready enough for adventurous 
trade or war, the Dutch of the first half of the seventeenth 
century were not ready for colonization. Those who 
liked a settled life were perfectly satisfied at home. 

Moreover, while pioneer life almost always bears its 
own peculiar crop of evils, the softer sins of civilization 
cannot flourish in its wild soil. Early Manhattan cannot 
have been a place where fools or cowards were many, and 
it certainly was not a place where plethoric citizens habitu- 
ally smoked and dozed and boozed in chimney-corners — 
this poor, cold, stinted, harassed, and often half-staved lit- 
tle outpost in the wilderness, with an unfamiliar climate, 
uncleared lands, and ever-possible Indian foes to fight, de- 
pendent upon a trust of tradesmen for sustenance and 
defense, and upon these tradesmen's employees for gui- 
dance. There was not much humor in a situation like this. 
There can have been nothing feebly comic about the major 
part of the people who bore with it. 

By nature the Dutch were more gentle and tolerant than 
the English, and they were also more inclined by their 
special needs to a policy of friendship with the natives. 
The Puritans did not long depend upon the fur trade as 
a main resource. Tilling their fields and fishing their seas, 
they soon prized the Indian's absence more than any wares 



Dutch Characteristics 69 

that he could bring. But the New Netherlanders craved 
nothing so much as the skins of wild creatures, and could 
more easily obtain them by bartering with wild hunters 
than by shooting and trapping on their own account in 
tangled forests and deep and rapid streams. So they con- 
ciliated the Indians as middlemen between themselves and 
the beaver, and also the only men who in times of dearth 
could furnish them with food. The West India Company 
in Europe, and almost all its colonists in America, were fair 
and honorable in their attitude toward the savage, buying 
his lands, respecting his customs, and beliefs, keeping 
the treaties they made with him, and, as Mr. Fernow writes^ 
regarding him " as a man with rights of life, liberty, 
opinion, and property like their own." To this policy, 
wisely followed by the English when they became the own- 
ers of New Netherland, " we owe," says the same histo- 
rian, " the existence of the United States." That is, w^e 
owe our national existence to the fact that, generation 
after generation, the powerful Iroquois tribes formed a 
steady bulwark against the aggressions of the Canadian 
French, enabling the English to retain New York, the 
" pivot province," and eventually to win in the great con- 
flict which ended on the Plains of Abraham and under the 
walls of Montreal — the conflict wdiich made the con- 
tinent English, and, at the same time, so drew^ the colonies 
together that they could combine to throw off England's 
yoke. 

1 In " Winsor's Narrative and Critical History of America." 



LIFE ON A COLONIAL MANOR 
By Helen Evertson Smith ^ 




HE holder of an American manor in co- 
lonial days, though of the highest social 
rank, was by no means an idle aristocrat 
living on an immense estate paying a 
proportionate revenue. In fact, if one 
of the wealthiest, he was also one of 
the busiest men of his generation. Both 
the conditions of the times and those upon which the manors 
were conferred made this a necessity. The manor granted 
to Robert Livingston in 1686 was almost, if not quite, as 
large as some of the German principalities of those days, 
and its possession implied a certain amount of extraneous 
wealth on the part of its owner to enable him to sustain 
his manorial authority with the fitting degree of power and 
prestige ; but it was no sinecure. 

Mr. Livingston's great domain, situated in what are 
now Columbia and Dutchess counties. New York, front- 
ing for twelve miles along the Hudson River, and en- 
larging to the length of twenty miles on the Massachusetts 
border, thirty miles or so back from the river, was still, for 
the most part, a wilderness where Indians hunted the deer, 
or sometimes fired the hut and took the scalp of a too ad- 
venturous pioneer. 

Robert Livingston was a far-seeing, politic man. As 



1 From " Colonial Days and Ways. 

7P 



Life on a Colonial Manor 71 

much as might be, he made friends of the wild tribes, pay- 
ing them fairly for their lands, without regard to the fact 
that the royal grants were supposed to preclude any such 
necessity, and himself learning, and causing his sons to 
learn, the Indian tongues, that they might be delivered from 
the misunderstandings which were so frequent when the 
several parties to any agreement were dependent upon the 
not always certain loyalty of the interpreters. 

Nothing in North America was then so plentiful as land, 
and under the conditions imposed by the royal grants a 
poor man could not have afforded to accept a gift of the 
lordiest manor of them all. Within a specified time a cer- 
tain number of families had to be brought from Europe 
and settled upon the granted territory, and their main- 
tenance for the first few years assured. It is true that the 
settlers thus brought were expected to pay back at least a 
part of the first expenditure, but for the time the outlays 
were heavy, and comparatively few of the settlers made 
the losses good. 

Farms were leased for long terms, usually for two lives 
and a half, a period which at that time was said to have 
averaged about fifty years. 

In his novel of " Satanstoe," one of the most reliable of 
historical tales, Cooper says : '' The first ten years no rent 
at all was to be paid; for the next ten the land [five 
hundred acres] was to pay sixpence currency per acre, the 
tenant having the right to cut timber at pleasure; for the 
remainder of the lease sixpence sterling was to be paid for 
the land and £40 currency or about $100 per year for the 
mill site. The mills to be taken by the landlord, at ' an 
appraisal made by men,' at the expiration of the lease; the 
tenant to pay taxes." The mill was evidently to be built 



72 The Colonists and the Revolution 



by the tenant, '' who had the privilege of using, for his 
dams, buildings, etc., all the materials that he could find on 
the land." To the landlords belonged the duty of con- 
structing roads and bridges, and of making all improve- 
ments of a public nature. The rents were usually if not 
always paid in the produce of the land, wdiich the manor's 
lord was obliged to get to market at his own expense in 
order to obtain the necessary cash for his varied undertak- 
ings. Such an arrangement would certainly seem to have 
been very liberal toward the tenant, and was doubtless so 
esteemed at the time, but in after years, when the descend- 
ants of the first tenants had forgotten the heavy advances 
which had been made by the ancestors of their landlords, 
and saw how easily the more recent settlers could make 
homes for themselves in the West, they considered them- 
selves unjustly treated, and in- 
stituted the struggle for posses- 
sion wdiich is known to history 
as the '' anti-rent war." 

Of course, nothing of all 
this was foreseen at the begin- 
ning. The first manor lords 
undoubtedly thought that they 
w^ere here founding immense 
holdings after the fashions of 
the motherland, and they pro- 
ceeded in a thoroughly business- 
like way to make all things se- 
cure for the prosperity of their 
heirs, who, when their time 
came, did not fail to appreciate 
Colonial gentleman. what had been done for them. 




Life on a Colonial Manor 



73 



Governor William Livingston of New Jersey, writing to 
his brother, the third lord of the Upper Manor, in 1775, re- 
marked : '' Without a large personal estate and their own 




uncommon industry and capacity for business, instead of 
making out of their extended tract of land a fortune for 
their descendants, our grand-parents and parents would 
have left us but a scant maintenance." 

In this expression Governor Livingston seems to have in- 
cluded the manor ladies as well as their lords, and indeed 
it is plain that the very desirable " capacity for business " 
was equally needed by both, and the " hand of the diligent 
that maketh rich " is not an exclusively masculine possess- 
ion. 

The first lady of the manor of Livingston was Alida, the 
daughter of Philip Pieterse Schuyler, and widow of the 
Rev. Nicholas Van Rensselaer. Whatever dower in 
money or lands she may have brought to the aid of her 
astute second husband she surely brought one still better in 
the sturdy Dutch qualities of fidelity, thrift, and manage- 




74 The Colonists and the Revolution 

ment. For warmth and strength of family affection, both 

Mr. and Mrs. Robert Livingston were long remembered 

among their descendants. 

The year of this marriage, 1683, was 

that in which young Robert Livingston 

made his first purchase of land from the 

Indians — a tract of two thousand acres. 

Two years later more land was added by 

, ^ , purchase, and still one year later came the 
Colonial Collar. 1,11 

grant from the crown, when the whole was 
erected into a lordship or manor, conferring the " Court- 
Leet," *' Court-Baron," and other rights and privileges 
which were for a long time more visible on the parchments 
than elsewhere. 

On this estate of more than one hundred and sixty 
thousand acres, ^ on the banks of a small but for a short 
distance navigable tributary of the Hudson, was erected 
the first Livingston manor-house. Its last vestige disap- 
peared more than a hundred years ago, when the present 
family residence, known as Oak Hill, was built, a mile or 
more from the ancient site. 

Of the first house we only know that it was " thick 
walled, low browed and heavy raftered," after the then pre- 
vailing Dutch farm-house type, only much larger than was 
usual. We do not know that it was constructed in any 
way for defense, although it well might have been. Prob- 
ably its builder trusted to keep the peace by his just and 
friendly dealings with the Indians, and he may also have 
been prepared for defense. He certainly had good reason 

1 Charles Carroll of Carrollton, writing in' 1776, says that the Liv- 
ingston Manor then comprised over 300,000 acres. This must have 
included almost 150,000 acres which had been gradually added by pur- 
chase to the original manorial grant. 



Life on a Colonial Manor 75 

to trust somewhat to the number of retainers gathered 
around him, a majority of whom, Hke all frontiersmen, 
would pretty surely be well armed against '' big game," 
which would as surely include aggressively inclined Indians, 
if any there w^ere; but this does not appear. From the 
rear of the broad-roofed dwelling stretched away the quar- 
ters of the slaves, the other outbuildings, and several barns, 
some of which were larger than the house itself. 

There was much building of houses at various suitable 
points for the use of the tenant farmers and craftsmen 
brought from Great Britain, Holland, and Germany. To 
supply the timber for these dwellings sawmill machinery 
was imported and set up on the banks of the streams in the 
midst of the forests. Near these mills little settlements 
grew up with a celerity that was remarkable for the time, 
and spoke volumes for the executive and administrative 
ability of the manor's active lord. In a long, semi-de- 
tached wing of the manor-house carpenters and masons 
were fed and lodged during the long winters, while they 
did such preparatory work as might be possible to for- 
w^ard building operations in the various settlements in such 
moments as the w^eather would per- 
mit. With the adaptability of all 
true pioneers, these men could turn 
their hands to many things, and ^•^^-^ %.«>^ 
they manufactured in the manor's ^°^°"^^^ spectacles. 
W'Orkshop and smithy many of the tools which otherwise 
must have been imported, as well as much of the rude 
furniture for the pioneer houses. Near by was the grist- 
mill which supplied flour and Indian meal to all the near 
settlements, as well as to many outside the manor for per- 
haps thirty miles up and down the river. On the home 






76 The Colonists and the Revolution 

farm hundreds of swine and beef cattle were raised, slaugh- 
tered, and cured to supply scores of resident families and 
also for exportation. Here the wool of many hundreds of 
sheep was sheared, carded, spun into yarn, and w^oven into 
blankets and cloths to be used for the manor household 
and by those of the tenants not sufficiently '' forehanded " 
to do this work for themselves. 

In one room of the " great house " were held courts 
where all the difficulties common to frontier populations 
w^ere adjusted, and in the same room were carried on the 
primitive banking operations of the newly opened region. 

Near by were the docks, whence, when the river was open, 
sloops were weekly departing, laden with salted meats, 
grains, peltries, and lumber, or returning with cargoes of 
all the countless things which could not yet be produced 
at home. Among these were many articles of luxury and 
rich household furnishings which must have seemed a trifle 
incongruous with their new surroundings. 

Not far away stood the big " store," where all sorts of 
things, from wrought-iron nails to silks, and from " West 
Indian sweetmeats " to Dutch garden seeds, were sometimes 
sold for money, but often bartered for country produce and 
peltries, which would soon find their way to New York, and 
some ultimately to England, in ships owned by the enter- 
prising Robert Livingston. 

All these various branches of business implied the com- 
ing and going of many persons, and entailed an open- 
handed hospitality of the widest kind. For this the princi- 
pal care and oversight fell upon the capable shoulders of 
Mrs. Livingston. It is traditionally related that the num- 
ber of permanent dwellers which the manor-house roof 
sheltered during the first twenty years of the eighteenth 



Life on a Colonial Manor 



77 




century averaged something over thirty persons — this be- 
ing exclusive of slaves, of whom there were more than a 
hundred having outside quarters, and of white employees. 
As strangers were always welcome, it was the custom to 
have beds of all 
sorts in a state of 
complete readi- 
ness for at least 
ten unexpected 
guests, while, at 
a pinch, a good 
many more could 
be accommodated 
without great in- 
convenience. 

The first manor 
of Livingston, 
with its many activities, its profuse hospitalities, and its 
strong contrasts, reminds one of Scott's descriptions of the 
rude baronial halls in the remote Scotch districts a few 
scores of years earlier than this. In the new land there 
was almost as much feudal authority over more diverse 
retainers, a greater display of costly plate, tapestries, and 
rich furniture, and the same lack of what were even then 
considered essential comforts for persons of like social po- 
sition in regions less remote. 

The wide hall and the long drawing-room of the big 
farm-house were wainscoted in panels. The mantels above 
the tile-bordered fireplaces were fancifully carved, and the 
walls were hung with costly Flemish tapestries; yet it is 
doubtful, if, during the first three or four decades, any of 
the floors were carpeted, while that of the dining-room was 



Colonial loom. 



78 The Colonists and the Revolution 

certainly sanded, and a row of sheepskins, dressed with the 
wool on, was laid around the table in winter for foot- 
warmers. At the same time the table was laid with the 
finest naperies and much solid silver, interspersed with 
pewter and wooden dishes. During the earliest years there 
probably was not a single fork, and it is almost certain that 
there were few if any articles of china, and not many of 
earthenware. 

Their descendants of the third and fourth generation, 
then grown to be a large, wealthy, keen-witted, and " clan- 
nish clan," were, with very few exceptions, found among the 
strongest opponents to British power during the struggle of 
the colonies for independence, though well knowing that 
with their success would perish all dreams of the new- 
world baronies. The course of the three great manor 
families of Van Rensselaer, Van Cortlandt, and Living- 
ston is alone a sufficient answer to the calumny that " great 
estates always made active Tories." 

PROSPEROUS DAYS ON A LATER MANOR 

The period from the founding of tlie first manor in the 
colony of New York to the beginning of the War of the 
Revolution was not quite a century, yet during the last 
third of that time home life on all the manors had greatly 
changed. What in the later time was held to be vast 
wealth had resulted from the wise plans and incessant 
labors of the founders, acting with the natural growth of 
the country. To such pleasant features a^ had existed in 
the earlier days many others had been added, while much 
of that which was unpleasant had disappeared. For miles 
along the eastern bank of the Hudson, above and below 
what is now Rhinebeck, almost every sightly eminence was 



Life on a Colonial Manor 



79 



capped with the fine residence of one of the grandchildren 
of the first lord and lady of the Livingston Manor. At all 
of these mansions cordial hospitality, abundant cheer, and 
all of what was then esteemed splendor, were to be found. 
'There were at this time two Livingston manors, as a por- 
tion of the first (which was subsequently called the Upper 
Manor) had been set off to the founder's third son Robert 
as a reward for peculiarly important services. This segre- 
gated portion was indifferently called the '' Lower Manor 
of Livingston " or '' Clermont " until after the colonies 
had become States, when it be- 
came definitely known as Cler- 
mont, one of the most cele- 
brated country-seats in Amer- 
ica. 

The manor ladies of the 
third generation and their suc- 
cessors of the fourth (though 
the title of these last had be- 
come one of courtesy only) 
were well-nigh queens on their 
own domains; but, like all 
queens who are not mere fig- 
ureheads, they had many cares, 
which they accepted as frankly 
as they did the pleasures of 
their position. 

Notions of political independence had for many years 
been growing through all the colonies, but of social equality 
there w^as scarcely a whisper. Certainly it was far from 
the thoughts of those who had belonged to good families in 
the old countries and had here been held in honor and had 



t 


.^Jpra 


^^^^M 




9» 



A lady of quality. 



8o The Colonists and the Revolution 

prospered to the extent of founding families of wealth. 
Perhaps no more frankly fervent aristocrats ever lived than 
the owners of the great colonial estates, whether these were 
situated on the banks of the James and the Chesapeake or 
on those of the Hudson. They were free from most of 




Colonial dance. 



the restraints and traditions which often hung like fetters 
on the limbs of the kindred class in the motherland, and 
thus they were at liberty to enjoy their rank, wealth, and 
cuhivation. Of this happy liberty they took the fullest ad- 
vantage. 

From the extreme limits of Van Rensselaer's manor on 
the north to that of the Van Cortlandts on the south, the 
eastern bank of the Hudson River from Albany to New 
York, and for a distance of from fifteen to thirty miles 
back from the river, was dotted by the handsome residences 



Life on a Colonial Manor 8i 

of as care- free, healthful, fine-looking, and happy a class as 
probably the society of any country has ever known. Its 
members were not driven by the fierce competition which 
embitters so many lives to-day, yet they had abundant and 
satisfying occupations. They had intermarried so freely 
that they seemed one great cousinry, all having a serene 
confidence in the invulnerability of their social position, 
which left them free to be jovial, hospitable, good-humored, 
and withal public-spirited to an unusual degree. The men 
had their offices, and their business hours in which to con- 
fer with their stewards and tenants, or with the men who 
conducted large enterprises of many sorts upon the strength 
of their capital and under their guidance. Into their capable 
and willing hands official positions naturally fell and were 
faithfully filled; but all these things were done in an at- 
mosphere of large leisureliness, consecpent upon the slow 
means of communication between distant points, which is 
almost beyond the conception of any in these electric days. 

The men rode a great deal, or hunted after the manner 
of their English cousins, or they made long expeditions 
into the unexplored regions of northern and western New 
York, partly, no doubt, with an eye to present profit or to 
future investments, but largely to gratify their innate love 
of adventure. Many of the sons were sent to the English 
universities of Cambridge or Oxford; but even if his col- 
lege training had been received at King's (now Columbia) 
College, the education of no young man belonging to a 
wealthy and cultivated family was considered complete un- 
til he had made a tour of Europe, from one to three years 
being frequently consumed in this way. 

During the long absences of the male heads of the manor 
families the administration of their home affairs was left 

6 



82 The Colonists and the Revolution 

in the hands of capable stewards, who were always under 
the supervision of the manor ladies. The household sup- 
plies of every sort were on a scale commensurate with the 
family's social position, and would in themselves make 
most interesting reading for one who loves to make the 
past seem present by recalling the homely details of do- 
mestic life. 

All the manor families had al- 
ways encouraged what were then 
" home industries " in a strictly 
literal sense. But there were 
many things which the largest 
private expenditure could not 
"j^ produce in the new country, and 
_^^^ Mrs. Livingston's old account- 
'^''^f^^^^^Z' book shows that persons of 

"'^"~' wealth did not, for this reason, 

A flax-wheel ^^^r\^^ themselves of much 

which they desired to possess. The things sent for from 
England, France, and Holland were varied, numerous, and 
costly. Great treasures of tapestries, pictures, inlaid cabi- 
nets, jewels, satins, velvets, and laces, as well as old wines, 
delicate porcelains and expensive plate, must have been lost 
when the Clermont manor-house was burned by the British 
during our Revolutionary War. 




A COLONIAL LETTER ' 

[from letter from SAMUEL SMITH OF HADLEY, MASS.] 

*' Hadley, Massachusetts Colony 
*' Jan. ye Firste, 1698. 

" My Dear & Dutiful Son : — Concerning ye earlle 
days I can remember but little save Hardships. My par- 
ents had broughte bothe Men Servants and Maid Servants 
from England, but ye Maids tarried not but till they got 
married, ye wch was shortly, for there was great scarcity 
of Women in the Colonies. . . 

" Ye first Meeting House was solid mayde to withstande 
ye wicked onslaughts of ye Red Skins. Its Foundations 
was laide in ye feare of ye Lord, but its Walls was truly 
laide in ye feare of ye Indians, for many and grate was the 
Terrors of 'em. I do mind me y't alle ye able-bodyed Men 
did work thereat, & ye olde & feeble did watch in turns if 
any Savages was in hiding neare & every man keept his 
musket nighe to his hande. I do not myself remember any 
of ye Attacks made by large bodeys of Indians whilst we 
did remain in Weathersfield, but did ofttimes fear of em. 
Several Families which did live back always from ye River 
was either Murderdt or Captivated in my Boyhood & we 
all did live in constant feare of ye like. 

". . . After ye Red Skins ye grate Terror of our lives 
at Weathersfield & for many years after we had moved to 
Hadley to live, was ye Wolves. Catamounts was bad eno' 

^ From " Colonial Days and Ways," by Helen Evertson Smith. 

83 



84 The Colonists and the Revolution 

& so was ye Beares, but it was ye Wolves yt was ye worst. 
The noyes of they're howHngs was eno' to curdle ye bloode 
of ye stoutest & I have never seen ye man yt did not shiver 
at ye Sounde of a Packe of 'em. . . . My Mother and 
sister did each of em Kill more yan one of ye gray Howlers 
& once my oldest sister shot a Beare yt came too near ye 
House. He was a good fatte oune and keept us all in meate 
for a good while." 




A THANKSGIVING DINNER ' 

[from a letter from JULIAN SMITH TO HER '' DEAR 
COUSIN BETSY " DESCRIBING A FAMILY THANKSGIVING 
DINNER IN NEW ENGLAND IN 1779-] 

'" When Thanksgiving Day was approaching our 
dear Grandmother Smith, who is sometimes a little despond- 
ing of Spirit as you well know, did her best to persuade 
us that it would be better to make it a Day of Fasting and 
Prayer in view of the JJlckedness of our Friends & the 
Vileness of our Enemies, I am sure you can hear Grand- 
mother say that and see her shake her cap border. 

" But indeed there was some occasion for her remarks, 
for our resistance to an unjust Authority has cost our beau- 
tiful Coast Towns very dear the last year & all of us have 
had much to suffer. But my dear Father brought her to a 
more proper frame of Mind, so that by the time the day 
came she was ready to enjoy it almost as well as Grand- 
mother Worthington did, & she, you will remember, al- 
ways sees the bright side. In the meanwhile we had all 
been working to get all things in readiness to do honor to 
the Day. 

" This year it was Uncle Simeon's turn to have the dinner 

at his house, but of course we all helped them as they help 

us when it is our turn, & there is always enough for us all 

to do. 

1 From " Colonial Days and Ways," by Helen Evertson Smith. 

85 



86 The Colonists and the Revolution 

'* All the baking of pies & cakes was done at our house 
and we had the big oven heated and filled twice each day 
for three days before it was all done, & everything was 
GOOD, though we did have to do without some things 
that ought to be used. Neither love nor (paper) Money 
could buy Raisins, but our good red cherries dried with- 
out the pits, did almost as well & happily uncle Simeon still 
had some spices in store. The tables were set in the Din- 
ing Hall and even that big room had no space to spare 
when we were all seated. 

"Of course w^e could have no Roast Beef. None of us 
have tasted Beef this three years back as it must all go to 
the Army, & too little they get, poor fellows. But, Nay- 
quittymaw's Hunters were able to get us a fine red Deer, 
so that we had a good haunch of Venison on Each Table. 
These were balanced by huge Chines of Roast Pork at the 
other Ends of the Tables. Then there was on one a big 
Roast Turkey & on the other a Goose & two big Pigeon 
Pasties. Then there was an abundance of good Vegetables 
of all the old sorts. 

. . . '' Our Mince Pies were good although we had to 
use dried Cherries as I told you, & the meat was shoulder 
of Venison instead of Beef. The Pumpkin Pies, Apple 
Tarts and big Indian Puddings lacked for nothing save 
Appetite by the time we had got round to them. 

. . . *' Uncle Simeon was in his best mood, and you 
know how good that is! He kept both Tables in a roar of 
laughter with his droll Stories of the days when he was 
studying Medicine in Edinborough, & afterwards he and 
Uncle Paul joined in singing Hymns and Ballads. 

. " We did not rise from the Table until it was 
quite dark, & then when the dishes had been cleared away 



A Thanksgiving Dinner 



87 



we all got round the fire as close as we could, & cracked 
nuts & sang songs & told stories. At least some told & 
others listened. You know nobody can exceed the two 
grandmothers in telling tales of all the things they have 
seen themselves & repeating those of the early years in 
New England, & even some in Old England, which they 
had heard in their youth from their Elders. My father 
says it is a goodly custom to hand down all worthy deeds 
& traditions from Father to Son as the Isrealites were 
commanded to do about the Passover & as the Indians here 
have always done, because the Word that is spoken is re- 
membered longer than the one that is written." 




LITTLE PURLfANS 
By H. E. Scudder 

Our New England ancestors, when they came here, 
brought Old England names with them for their towns and 
many Old England customs; but they did not at first bring 
bells for their churches, and, instead, a man stood on the 
door-step and beat a drum. Drums they had, for the men 
were all, or nearly all, soldiers. They did not keep a great 
army, but every one had his musket and sword and spear, 
for protection against the hostile Indian or the wild beast. 
Indeed, when Sunday came and everybody went to church, 
you would have supposed there was to be a drill or a fight, 
for there stood the drummer on the step, and the men com- 
ing down the broad path were all or nearly all armed; be- 
sides, upon the square, fort-like building, in which they first 
held their meetings, men were stationed on the lookout for 
enemies. 

We call the drum the Puritan church-bell, but in those 
days the churches in New England were called " meeting- 
houses," — the same as synagogue, which word you find in 
the New Testament, and there were a good many points in 
common between the Jewish synagogue and the New Eng- 
land meeting-house. Let us enter the meeting-house on a 
Sunday and see what is done there. You will not fail to 
see the pulpit, which is very high and often overhung by a 
sounding-board, such as still remain in some old churches. 
This is the preacher's place, and before him stands an hour- 

88 



Little Puritans 89 

glass filled with sand; for there is no clock in the house, 
and when the minister begins his sermon he turns the glass 
and expects to preach till the last grain of sand has run 
through. Immediately below the pulpit sit the ruling 
elders, facing the congregation, and still further down in 
the same position sit the deacons. Then comes the con- 
gregation, and you could very quickly tell wdio were the 
most important people by the place they have in the church, 
for it is the business of a committee once a year to seat the 
people according to their general rank in the place, and 
many a bitter family quarrel has sprung up from disappoint- 
ment at not being well placed. I think a good text for the 
minister of preach from when the time for seating came 
would be James ii., i-io. 

The people do not sit in families, but the men sit on one 
side and the women on the other, while the boys have a 
place by themselves. Very likely the floor is sanded, and if 
it is winter the boys have brought little foot-stoves for their 
mothers and sisters to put under their feet during the long 
service. A long service it is. For first the pastor makes a 
prayer which lasts a quarter of an hour, then the teacher 
reads and expounds a chapter in the Bible. Nowadays one 
generally hears the chapter read, in whatever church, with- 
out comment, but then it was held that this savored of a 
superstitious respect for the Bible, as if one must simply 
listen to it and not understand it. Then one of the ruling 
elders dictates a psalm out of the Bay psalm-book, which 
the people sing. These psalms were made imitations in 
meter of the Psalms of David, and the people only had 
about ten tunes in all which they could sing. They did not 
like to sing the psalms just as they stood, for the English 
Church did that, and they wished to ignore that Church 




A Puritan church-bell. 



Little Puritans 91 

in every possible way, so they put the psahns into 
very troublesome rime, and v^ithout any musical instru- 
ment sang them as well as they could to one of their ten 
tunes. 

After the singing the pastor preaches his hour-long ser- 
mon, and adds often an exhortation, then the teacher prays 
and pronounces a blessing. The same service is held in 
the afternoon, except that the pastor and teacher change 
places. Perhaps there is baptism also, when a little child 
born since the last Sunday, or it may be this very day, is 
brought in. If there is a contribution, the people go up 
by turns and place their money in a box which the deacons 
keep, and sometimes, if they have no money, they bring 
goods and corn and the like and place them on the floor. 

Do you wonder that in the long service, all of which 
pretty much was carried on by the minister, the people, and 
especially the boys, became tired and restless? On cold 
winter days, as the sermon drew near an end, you could 
have heard men knocking their half- frozen feet together, 
and then was the time, too, or on drowsy summer after- 
noons, when the tithing-man was busy. Who was the 
tithing-man? He was a parish officer whose special busi- 
ness it was to see that the Sabbath was not broken, and 
who spent his time in church looking after the boys to see 
that they behaved themselves. He had a long staff which 
he carried, much as a sheriff does. He did not always 
walk up and down before the children. Sometimes he 
stood behind them, and a boy whose head fell over from 
sleepiness would feel a thump on the crown presently from 
the staff of the watchful tithing-man. Many of the seats 
in the old churches were on hinges, and when people stood 
up at the blessing, you would hear the seats go slamming 



92 The Colonists and the Revolution 

against the backs of the pews all over the house like, a suc- 
cession of cannon-crackers. I fancy that the boys who 
were eager to get away slammed a little harder than was 
really necessary. 

Sunday with the Puritans began at sunset Saturday and 
lasted until sunset of Sunday. But that is only one day 
out of seven, though I am afraid it was a long day to 
many. We are very apt to think of the Puritans as al- 
ways going to meeting, and little Puritans we imagine as 
dangling their legs from high wooden seats and wondering 
when the minister was to be through; but think a moment, 
remember what New England was at that time, and you 
will see a little of what young life must have been. There 
were no larger cities or towns as now ; there were no 
screaming railway trains or puffing steamboats. Boston, 
the largest tow^n, had not so many inhabitants as many a 
Western village may have in a year's time. There were 
no great colleges and fine public schools, no public halls, 
exhibitions, concerts or plays. But then the country was 
far wilder and more exciting than it now is. New Eng- 
land boys spent their time in fields or in the deep woods, by 
the banks of the rivers and upon the shore of the roaring 
sea, or in boats tossing on the water. They learned the 
use of the bow and the gun, and they had plenty of game 
right at their doors. They hunted bears and deer and 
trapped foxes. They shot w^ild turkeys, wild geese and 
wild ducks. They did not have to wait for vacation and 
then go off a great distance from home, but this was their 
daily occupation. Then, perhaps, as they walked through 
the forest they came upon the red Indian, who was not 
making baskets and miniature canoes, but hunting as they 
were. If they lived by the sea or rivers, as nearly all did 



Little Puritans 



93 



at first, they had their fishing, swimming, rowing and sail- 
ing. This was all part of their work as well as their sport, 
and hard lives they led of it, too, for from early youth they 
worked with the elder men, laying out roads through the 
woods, digging wells and ditches, making walls and fences, 
keeping out wolves and wild-cats. There were houses and 
barns to be built, ships and boats 
to make, mills, fortifications and 
churches. There were farms 
and orchards to lay out and cul- 
tivate, and when winter came, 
they went into the woods and cut 
down the forest trees, and when 
the snow was hard, they sledded 
the logs to the wood-pile, the 
timber to the mill. They had 
not the various labor-saving ma- 
chines, but every one had to work 
hard with plain tools; and as 
there were few stores, people 
raised or made nearly all that they 
use. 

The girls, too, had their work. Every home had Its 
spinning-wheel and loom, and the women and young girls 
spun and wove all the clothing and household stuff. They 
had to take care of the houses, and they had their outdoor 
life also, working on the farm and in the field. When the 
long winter evenings came they read by the fireside, and 
had their quilting bees and their husking frolics. There 
was plenty of wood in the forest, and the wood-piles were 
built high, so they stuffed the great logs into the big chim- 
ney and had roaring fires, which did not warm the houses 




Emigrants' 

themselves needed to 



94 The Colonists and the Revolution 

as our furnaces do, but were vastly more cheerful and more 
wholesome. There was not much schooling with books, 
and there were few who spent as much time in school as 
most children now spend in vacation. 

Now, all new countries require work, and New England 
boys and girls had to work hard; but it was not work only 
which made New England so well known and so great that 
hundreds of books have been written about her and will 
continue to be written for generations to come. It was 
Sunday and work together that made her great. The boys 
and girls who heard the drum call them to church, and sat 
restlessly there under the eye of the tithing-man, did not al- 
ways understand what was said, and many times foolish 
things were said by the preachers ; but the day which they 
kept so rigorously was always reminding them that there 
was something more to be done than to get rich fast and 
spend their riches on themselves; that they were to please 
God and not themselves. They did not always go to work 
the right way to please Him, but they did not forget Him 
and think only of their merchandise. The children in 
meeting-house and at work learned self-control, learned 
that it was manlier and better to labor than to be self-in- 
dulgent, and they were never allowed to think that they 
could do anything they chose. We live in happier times 
now, and should think it very odd to see boys always take 
off their hats, and girls courtesy when they met older people 
in the road ; to write letters to our fathers which begin 
Honored Sir, and to treat our parents as if they were 
judges of the supreme court; but because little Puritans did 
these things, you must not fancy they did not love their 
parents, or that their parents did not love them. There are 
many beautiful letters written at that time which show that 



Little Puritans 



95 



fathers and mothers cared for their homes as they cared 
for nothing else but God. 

So when we think of the stiff, hard-looking Puritans, 
we may remember that they hated lies and worked hard. 
The little Puritans grew up in a free out-of-door life, and 
learned in childhood to set duty before pleasure. And it 
was out of such stuff that the men and women of the Revo- 
lution came. 




THE FUR-TRADER AND THE INDIAN 
Based on Parkman, Kalm and Others 

The great part which fur-trading played in building up 
the colonies and in openiHg up new country will be plain 
to any one who stops to think that as a means of subsistence 
and of money-making, it was only second to farming 
among the occupations of the colonists. 

The Indian, from the beginning, parted with his valuable 
furs for the cheapest baubles, and worst of all for him, he 
often gave up his choicest stores for a bottle of brandy or 
rum. 

The chief thoroughfare westward of the middle colonies 
in the years approaching the Revolution was from Phila- 
delphia, across the Alleghanies, to the valley of the Ohio. 
Parkman ^ thus describes the equipment, character and mode 
of operation of the fur-trader of these times (1760 to the 
Revolution) : " Peace was no sooner concluded with the 
hostile tribes, than the adventurous fur-traders careless of 
risk of life and property, hastened over the mountains, 
each eager to be foremost in the wilderness market. Their 
merchandise was sometimes carried in wagons as far as the 
site of Fort de Quesne, which the English rebuilt after 
its capture, changing its name to Fort Pitt. From this 
point the goods were packed on the backs of horses, and 
thus distributed among the various Indian villages. More 

1 " The Conspiracy of Pontiac and the Indian War." Boston, 1874, 
by Francis Parkman. 

96 



The Fur-Trader and the Indian 97 

commonly, however, the whole journey was performed by 
means of trains, or, as they were called, brigades of pack- 
horses, which, leaving the frontier settlements, climbed the 
shadowy heights of the Alleghanies, and threaded the for- 
ests of the Ohio, diving through thickets and wading over 
streams. The men employed in this perilous calling were 
a rough, bold and intractable class, often as fierce and trucu- 
lent as the Indians themselves. A blanket, coat, or a frock 
of smoked deer-skin, a rifle on the shoulder, and a knife 
and tomahawk in the belt, formed their ordinary equipment. 
The principal trader, the owner of the merchandise, would 
fix his headquarters at some large Indian town, whence 
he would dispatch his subordinates to the surrounding 
villages, with a suitable supply of blankets and red cloth, 
guns and hatchets, liquor, tobacco, paint, beads and hawk's 
bells. This w^ild traffic was liable to every species of dis- 
order; and it is not to be wondered that, in a region where 
law was unknown, the jealousies of rival traders should 
become a fruitful source of brawls, robberies and murders. 

" In the back woods, all land traveling was on foot, or on 
horseback. It was no easy matter for a novice, embar- 
rassed w^ith his cumbrous gun, to urge his horse through 
the thick trunks and undergrowth, or even to ride at speed 
along the narrow Indian trails, wdiere at every yard the 
impending branches switched him across the face. 

" At night, the camp would be formed by the side of 
some rivulet or spring, and, if the traveler was skilful in 
the use of his rifle, a haunch of venison would often form 
his evening meal. If it rained, a shed of elm or bass-wood 
bark was the work of an hour, a pile of evergreen boughs 
formed a bed, and the saddle or the knapsack, a pillow. 

" He who wished to visit the remoter tribes of the Missis- 
7 



98 The Colonists and the Revolution 

sippi Valley, would find no easier course than to descend the 
Ohio in a canoe or bateau. He might float for more than 
eleven hundred miles down this liquid highway of the w^il- 
derness, and, except the deserted cabins of Logstown, a lit- 
tle below Fort Pitt, and an occasional hamlet or solitary 
wigwam along the deeply wooded banks, he would discern 
no trace of human habitation throughout all this vast ex- 
tent. The body of the Indian population lay to the north- 
ward, about the waters of the tributary streams. It be- 
hooved the voyager to observe a sleepless caution and a 
hawk-eyed vigilance. Sometimes his anxious scrutiny 
would detect a faint blue smoke stealing upward above the 
green bosom of the forest, and betraying the encamping 
place of some lurking war-party. Then the canoe w^ould 
be drawn in haste beneath the overhanging bushes wdiich 
skirted the shore; nor would the voyage be resumed until 
darkness closed, Avhen the little vessel w^ould drift safely 
by the point of danger." 

The Indians, who go hunting in winter commonly bring 
their furs and skins to sale in the neighboring towns. But 
to the Indians who live at a greater distance both the Eng- 
lish and French traders carried their goods for exchange, 
often penetrating in their courses to very great distances. 

The fur-traders engendered a peculiar class of reckless 
bush-rangers, more like Indians than white men. Those 
who once felt the fascination of the forest life were forever 
unfitted for a life of quiet labor. The colonies were more 
or less infected with this restless spirit. In spite of In- 
dian hostility and all the hardships of the woods, the trad- 
ers pushed their way far into the wilderness, their canoes 
being conducted along the inland rivers and lakes by these 
half-vagrant bush-rangers. 



The Fur-Trader and the Indian 99 

The Indians settle themselves in towns or villages after 
an easy manner ; the houses are not too close to incommode 
one another, nor too far distant for social defense. . . . 
Most of them have clean, neat dwelling houses, white- 
washed within and without. . . . 

The chief goods which the French traders carried with 
them into the wilderness for barter are described as fol- 
lows in " Peter Kalm's Travels into North America " : 

Muskets, Pozifdcr, Shot, and Balls. The Europeans 
have taught the Indians in their neighbourhood the use of 
fire-arms, and they have laid aside their bows and arrows, 
which were formerly their only arms, and make use of 
muskets. If the Europeans should now refuse to supply 
the Indians with muskets, they would be starved to death ; 
as almost all their food consists of the flesh of the animals, 
which they hunt ; or they W'ould be irritated to such a 
degree as to attack the Europeans. . . . 

Pieces of zMte cloth, or of a coarse uncut cloth. The 
Indians constantly wear such pieces of cloth, wrapping 
them round their bodies. Sometimes they hang them over 
their shoulders ; in warm weather, they fasten them round 
the middle; and in cold weather, they put them over the 
head. Both their men and women wear these pieces of 
cloth, which have commonly several blue or red stripes on 
the QdgQ. 

Blue or red cloth. Of this the Indian women make their 
petticoats, which reach only to their knees. They gener- 
ally chuse the blue colour. 

Pieces of cloth, which they wrap round their legs in- 
stead of stockings, like the Russians. 

Hatchets, knives, scissars, needles, and a steel to strike 
fire with. These instruments are now common among the 



100 The Colonists and the Revolution 

Indians. They all take these instruments from the Euro- 
peans, and reckon the hatchets and knives much better, 
than those which they formerly made of stones and bones. 
The stone hatchets of the ancient Indians are very rare in 
Canada. 

Kettles of copper or brass, sometimes tinned in the in- 
side. In these the Indians now boil all their meat, and they 
have a very great run with them. . . . 

Ear-rings of different sizes, commonly of brass, and 
sometimes of tin. They are worn by both men and women, 
though the use of them is not general. 

Vermillion. With this they paint their face, shirt, and 
several parts of the body. They formerly made use of a 
reddish earth, which is to be found in the country; but, as 
the Europeans brought them vermillion, they thought noth- 
ing was comparable to it in colour. Alany persons have told 
me, that they had heard their fathers mention, that the 
first Frenchmen who came over here, got a great heap of 
furs from the Indians, for three times as much cinnabar as 
would ly [lie] on the tip of a knife. 

Verdigrease, to paint their faces green. For the black 
colour, they make use of the soot at the bottom of their ket- 
tles, and daub their whole face with it. 

Looking glasses. The Indians are very much pleased 
with them, and make use of them chiefly when they want 
to paint themselves. The men constantly carry their look- 
ing glasses with them on all their journies; but the women 
do not. The men, upon the whole, are more fond of dress- 
ing than the women. 

Burning glasses. These are excellent pieces of furniture 
in the opinion of the Indians; because they serve to light 



The Fur-Trader and the Indian lOl 

the pipe without any trouble, which an indolent Indian is 
very fond of. 

Tobacco is bought by the northern Indians, in whose 
country it will not grow. The southern Indians always 
plant as much of it as they want for their own consump- 
tion. Tobacco has a great run amongst the northern In- 
dians, and it has been observed, that the further they live 
to the northward, the more they smoke of tobacco. 

Wampum, or, as they are here called, porcelanes. They 
are made of a particular kind of shells, and turned into little 
short cylindrical beads, and serve the Indians for money 
and ornament. 

Glass heads, of a small size, and white or other colours. 
The Indian women know how to fasten them in their rib- 
bands, pouches, and clothes. 

Brass and steel zcire, for several kinds of work. 

Brandy, which the Indians value above all other goods 
that can be brought them ; nor have they any thing, though 
ever so dear to them, which they would not give away for 
this liquor. But, on account of the many irregularities 
which are caused by the use of brandy, the sale of it has 
been prohibited under severe penalties; however, they do 
not always pay an implicit obedience to this order. 

These are the chief goods which the French carry to 
the Indians, and they have a good run among them. 

Parkman characterizes these frontier types : " Those 
rude and hardy men, hunters and traders, scouts and guides, 
who ranged the woods beyond the borders, and formed 
a connecting link between barbarism and civilization were 
a distinct peculiar class marked with striking contrasts 
of good and evil." 



^^\^v^\^\\^\\\^a^v^:^\fc^\^^S^^ 



P-JiN^\te^^^^ ^^^^SfeXVAXV^ 




NORTHERN CAMPAIGN 

Spring of 17 75 to win ter of 1779-80 

SOUTHERN CAMPAIGN 
Winterof 17 79-80to au tumn of 1781 

IMPORTANT BATTLES 

NEAR BOSTON- 

Lexington and Concord, April 19, 1775 

Bunker Hill June 17, 1775 

(Evacuation of Boston, March 17, 1776) 

NEAR NEW TORE 

(Declaration of Independence, 

July 4,1770) 

Long Island Ang. 27, 1776 

Harlem Heights Sept. 10, 1776 

Fort Washington Nov. 16, 1770 

(Retreat of Washington 

across New Jersey ) 

(Crossing the Delaware, Dec. 25, 1776) 

Trenton Dec. 26, 1776 

Princeton Jan. 3, 1777 

NEAR PHILADELPHIA 

Brandywine Sept. 11, 1777 

Germantown Oct. 4, 1777 

NEAR SARATOGA 

Oriskany Aug. 6, 1777 

Bennington Aug. 16, 1777 

Saratoga ( Surrender of 

Burgoyn e), Oct. 17, 1777 

(Washington at Valley Forge, 
winter, 17' 

Monmouth June 28, 1778 

IN THE SOUTH 

Savannah , Oct. 9, 1779 

Charleston. May 12, 1780 

Camden Aug. 16, 1760 

King's Mountain Oct. 7, 1780 

Cowpena Jan. 17, 1781 

Guilford March 15, 1781 

Eutaw Springs Sept. 8, 1781 

Yorktown Oct. 19, 1781 



THE ALGONQUIN MEDICINE-BOY 
By Francis S. Palmer 

Algonquins from the Ottawa River were making an 
expedition against tlieir enemies, the Iroquois — the re- 
doubtable Five Nations, whose vihages extended through 
what is now northern and central New York. Forty canoes 
laden with swarthy warriors had crossed the St. Lawrence, 
passed through the Richelieu, and were in the northern 
waters of Lake Champlain. 

For years the Mohawks, one of the most warlike of the 
Five Nations, had brought w^ar to the home of the Algon- 
quins, and a counter raid was being made. The Canadian 
warriors had high hopes of success, since French soldiers 
from Quebec were wath them, and the white man's fire- 
arm was still a terror to the Indian. Only one thought 
dampened the ardor of the Algonquins. Wahiawa, their 
great medicine-man, skilled in planning raids and wars, 
was dead. Wahiawa, w^ho was more wily than any magi- 
cian among the Iroquois; more cunning than the fox; more 
wise than the serpent. Wahiawa, who, as it was rumored, 
could not be killed by mortal hand, whose name was a 
dread to all enemies of the Algonquins. Disease had crept 
upon him, and Wahiawa was dead. 

Forty Algonquin warriors -were in each of thirty-nine 
canoes; there were also a dozen craft carrying the French 
soldiers. Another canoe held two warriors, also Anguel, 
the medicine-man; and with him the son of dead Wahiawa, 

103 



104 The Colonists and the Revolution 

Uncoma, a lad of fourteen who came to see how his people 
made war. 

Anguel rose in the canoe and addressed the members of 
the little fleet : 

" It is time, my children, to land and build our camp. 
Then Anguel will learn whether the spirits promise victory 
if you fight to-morrow." 

The Indians obeyed and went ashore on the island since 
called Isle La Motte. A small wigwam covered with 
brightly colored skins of the deer and moose served as the 
medicine-man's temple. Into this crept Anguel to com- 
mune with the deities. Uncoma stood just outside, ready 
to make known to the assembled warriors the oracular 
words spoken to Anguel. 

The Frenchmen, lounging at one side of the camp- 
ground, looked with scornful eyes at the solemn concourse 
of Indians. They thought it strange such stout fighters 
could be so childish. 

Now the slight poles of the wigwam began to shake as 
though agitated by the presence of mighty spirits, and soon 
muttering voices, supposed to belong to the gods themselves, 
were heard in earnest converse with Anguel. 

*' The spirits say," interrupted Uncoma, " you must 
fight to-morrow, for then you will be terrible to your ene- 
mies, and the frightened Iroquois will try to hide himself 
beneath the moss of the forest. When you have won the 
battle, you shall rest and feast, giving thanks to the gods 
and presents to the medicine-man." 

The assembly broke up, and a roughly fortified camp 
was built; now they were in the land of the Iroquois, and 
it would not do to be careless. That night Uncoma lay 
by the side of his instructor, Anguel. 



The Algonquin Medicine-Boy 105 

" Tell me," said the boy, " why do you deceive the war- 
riors ? They thought spirits shook the tent, but I saw your 
hand grasping the poles, and it was you, not the spirits, that 
spoke." 

" O son of Wahiawa," replied Anguel, " your father 




" Canoes laden with swarthy warriors had crossed the St. Lawrence." 

could persuade men by his wisdom ; but we lesser prophets 
must deceive if we would keep our influence. It is right for 
these dull warriors to fight to-morrow, for they are now 
well fed and in good courage ; it is for their advantage, and 
so I thought it wise to say the gods bade them fight." 

This reasoning did not quite satisfy Uncoma, and he fell 
asleep pondering over the duties of a medicine-man. He 
was almost sorry to think of what might come to him in 
the office he inherited. 

By sunrise the canoes were again journeying southward, 
stealing along the west shore of the lake. During the fore- 
noon the Algonquins saw smoke as of camp-fires rising into 



lo6 The Colonists and the Revolution 

the air above a wooded point which stretched far into the 
water. Scouts were sent forward to learn the cause. 
They reported a camp of Dutch traders from Fort Orange, 
and, gathered around the traders, many Mohawk wig- 
wams. An attack was planned, and soon the Iroquois, 
busy in exchanging furs for the wares of the white man, 
were startled by the war-cry of the Algonquins. 

The Mohawks, assisted by the Dutchmen, intrenched 
themselves behind a rude barricade, and tried to make a 
stand against the invaders. 

The commander of the French soldiers called on the 
besieged men to surrender; but even he doubted his ability 
to protect prisoners from the fury of his savage allies; the 
band inside the barricade seemed willing to die, but not to 
became captives. 

Though the light was stubborn, every advantage was in 
favor of the attacking party, and before sunset the only 
survivors of the band that defended the barricade were a 
few Mohawk warriors who had been wounded and made 
prisoners. The Dutchmen were all slain, their breastplates 
being no protection against the skilled bowmen of the 
Algonquins. 

Uncoma was kept in the background during the fighting ; 
but now that the battle w^as over he ran forward to ex- 
amine the strange accountrements of the Dutchmen. Back 
of the barricade he noticed a mound of leaves rudely heaped 
together. Throwing these aside, he saw the rounded top 
of a steel breastplate, from beneath which a faint sound 
was heard. A hole had been dug, and covered by the 
breastplate; in this cavity was a flaxen-haired white child, 
a girl less than twelve years old. 

The little e^irl midit have been slain bv the victorious 



The Algonquin Medicine-Boy 107 

Indians had not Uncoma restrained them. He comforted 
her as best he could, and led her away from the bloody 
scene. She knew a few words of the Indian language, and 
thus could give some account of herself. Her father, who 
had come north to barter with the friendly Mohawks, had 
brought her with him. There seemed but little danger, 
as the terror of the Mohawk warriors usually kept the 
Champlain region clear of hostile Indians. When the 
camp was attacked, her father had put her where he 
thought she would be safe from the Indian arrows. Now 
her father was killed, and his Gretchen a captive among 
the cruel Algonquins — tales of whom had so fright- 
ened her. 

" Do not fear," said Uncoma. " They shall not hurt 
you. I am the son of Wahiawa, and, young as I am, can 
protect you." 

Although Uncoma spoke thus boldly, he had some mis- 
givings, and that night he questioned Anguel as to the 
probable fate of the captive. 

" Already," said the medicine-man, " the warriors are 
drinking the liquors brought by the Dutch traders; to-mor- 
row every Indian will be wild and bloodthirsty. It is use- 
less for even you — son of Wahiawa, and the only Serpent 
left among the Algonquins — to attempt to interfere for 
the captives. Moreover, the law of the tribe gives warriors 
the right to prisoners taken in battle." 

Uncoma lay awake thinking. The white child w^ho al- 
ready had roused his pity and friendship must not be 
abandoned to the cruel warriors. The lad resolved upon a 
plan to save her — a plan which kept his thoughts busy un- 
til far into the night. 

It was past midnight when Uncoma grasped his bow 



io8 The Colonists and the Revolution 



and arrows, slipped from the side of the sleeping Anguel, 
and stole away into the darkness. 

Stealthily he flitted through the woods to where the cap- 
tives were. The guards seemed sleepy or maybe tipsy, and 
it was an easy matter to move to the spot in which the 
Dutch girl had sobbed herself to sleep. He lifted his 
knife to sever the few thono'S that bound her. His foot 



must have pressed somewhat too 



heavily upon the 
moss, for a twig 
snapped beneath it, 
with a sharp re- 
port. An Indian 
guard close to Un- 
coma's side started 
and peered around. 
The boy knew the 
surer way to si- 
lence this fellow 
was to plunge the 
knife into his 
heart : what mat- 
tered a stupid war- 
rior more or less? 
Yet Uncoma had 
enlisted in the 
cause of mercy, and this would be a bad beginning. 

" Lie still and close your eyes, friend," he whispered to 
the guard, '' or you will anger the spirits with whom I, Un- 
coma, am communing." 

In supernatural awe the sentinel buried his face in the 
moss. Uncoma cut the thongs, and the child awoke from 
troubled dreams to see the kind face of her boy protector. 




He built a fire and roasted the grouse." 



The Algonquin Medicine-Boy 109 

He signed her to follow as silently and quickly as she 
could. Both wore moccasins and moved with inaudible 
footsteps. When out of hearing of the guards, Uncoma 
seized the girl's hand and ran as fast as the darkness and 
roughness of their path would allow. He did not slacken 
the pace until Gretchen was breathless. Then they walked 
again, and, as it seemed to her, had walked many miles 
when a gray light in the east foretold the dawn, and Un- 
coma permitted a halt. 

The girl was hungry, and cried for food. Uncoma, in 
his anxiety to rescue her, had forgotten to bring provisions. 
But he had bow and arrow^s, and there must be game in the 
woods. Leaving his tired and weeping charge, he started 
forth. The forest creatures were hardly awake, and it be- 
gan to seem as though he must return empty-handed, when 
he noticed some little balls on the branch of a spruce-tree. 
Uncoma stepped nearer and saw each ball w^as a fluffy 
mass of feathers. His arrow sped from the bow, and a 
half-grown grouse fell to the ground. The noise of the 
arrow, and the fall on the dry leaves below, alarmed the old 
bird; in a moment she was alert. Before the boy could fit 
another arrow to the bow, she was off and her young ones 
whirring after her. 

The young grouse he had killed was no larger than a 
pigeon, but it would make a breakfast for the child. As 
for himself, like most Indian boys, he was trained to bear 
privation, and took pride in showing indifference to hun- 
ger. 

He returned to Gretchen, built a fire, and roasted the 
grouse. While she breakfasted he unfolded his plan. 
They would follow some trail to a Mohaw^k village. As 
the Mohawks were friends of the Dutch, she would then 



no The Colonists and the Revolution 

be safe; but he, Uncoma, must leave her at the village out- 
skirts, and return to Canada as best he could. An Algon- 
quin lad could expect no mercy from the Mohawks. 

Uncoma was making a couch for the tired child by 
spreading his mantle of beaver-skins over the moss, when a 
scream from her caused him to look up. She was staring 
at a bushy evergreen, where its heavy lower branches 
rested upon the ground. Following her glance, he saw a 
pair of menacing eyes gleaming from out the shadows. 
The young savage had been taught to act promptly; he 
seized his most deadly weapon — the keen flint tomahawk 
thrust through his belt — and hurled it at the peering eyes. 
There was an angry howl, and Uncoma, grasped from be- 
hind, was thrown to the ground. 

A dozen dusky figures glided from out the underbrush, 
and the tall Mohawk warrior who had seized Uncoma 
stood over him, looking down with a grim frown. 

'' Why is the Algonquin boy and the white child in the 
land of the Mohawks? See, he is too quick with his toma- 
hawk." 

From under the evergreen an Indian was crawling. The 
boy's w^eapon had gashed his ear, and the warrior was 
furious with pain and outraged dignity. He moved to 
where Uncoma lay, and raised his knife. 

" This whelp of the Algonquins must die," he muttered, 
" or the wound of the Mohawk brave will not heal." 

Gretchen, who was watching with terrified eyes, screamed 
wildly; but Uncoma looked at the raised steel with steady 
gaze, though his hand convulsively clutched the earth. 
Perhaps this movement saved his life, for, as the blade was 
about to descend, one of the warriors caught and held the 
avenging arm. ''See!" he cried, ''on the boy's wrist is 



The Algonquin Medicine-Boy 1 1 1 

the totem of the Serpent-clan — the clan of great medicine- 
men which is sacred among all the tribes of the lakes and 
the river. He must not be killed." 

The warriors crowded around to gaze at the image of 
the rattlesnake tattooed on the boy's wrist — the sacred 
symbol worn only by the chief magicians and their chosen 
successors. 

Uncoma was ignorant of the full power of the totem 
wdiich his father, Wahiawa, had tattooed upon his wrist, 
and which he alone of all Algonquins now had the right 
to wear; even if he had known its power, the morbid pride 
of an Indian might have forbidden his taking advantage 
of it to escape death. He was still solicitous for the wel- 
fare of the little maid, and so assumed all the dignity of his 
priestly rank as he addressed the now submissive Mohawks : 



<?i«? i ^ N'ivX^ 



?^ 







'-^\f^r 



See ! " he cried, " on the boy's wrist is the token of the Serpent Clan ! 
He must not be killed." 



112 The Colonists and the Revolution 

'' Take this child safely and quickly to her people at 
Fort Orange; as for me, I wish guides to the great river 
which flows between the lands of the Iroquois and the 
Algonquins. Tell the Serpents of the Iroquois that among 
the Algonquins one only of their clan is alive, and he soon 
wall visit them to be taught the secrets of the sacred wam- 
pum." 

Yellow-haired Gretchen wept at parting w^ith her young 
protector ; but Uncoma did not dare unbend his dignity, and 
contented himself with ordering the Indians to take her 
safely to her people, or else fear the wrath of the Great 
Spirit. The Mohawks then separated into two parties : 
Gretchen, placed on a litter, was carried southward toward 
Fort Orange; while the guides of Uncoma took a north- 
west course to the St. Lawrence. 

The boy felt safe among his new friends, and so bade 
them take him direct to Canada. He feared to let them 
know the existence of the Algonquin war-party. 

In due season Gretchen reached the Dutch settlement, 
and told of the destruction of the trading-party and her 
own rescue by the medicine-boy. 

For many years Uncoma, last of his line and chief medi- 
cine-man of the Algonquins, wisely guided his people; but 
even he could not prevent the gradual annihilation to which 
they were doomed. In the latter days, wdien the Algon- 
quin name ^vas almost forgotten, an aged Indian stalked 
among the huts of Montreal. The good priests looked 
upon old Uncoma with kindly eyes, for his was a voice 
that had always been heard for peace and mercy. 



IN 1776 
By W. H. Venable 

In 1776 the region west of the Alleghanies was styled 
The Wilderness, and only a few bold spirits, like Daniel 
Boone, had dared to penetrate its solitude. The Rocky, 
then called Stony, Mountains were known to exist, but no 
white man had explored them. 

The journey from Baltimore to Pittsburg took twelve 
days, and was not only toilsome, but dangerous, for hostile 
Indians lurked in the woods. Wagons often stuck fast in 
the mire, or broke down on " corduroy " roads made of 
logs laid side by side in the mud. The heavy stage-coach 
of early times, although it made great show of speed when 
dashing through a village, was as long in lumbering from 
New^ York to Boston as a modern express train is in cross- 
ing the continent. In great contrast with the present mode 
of traveling was the journey made by Thomas Jefferson, in 
the year 1775, when he went in a carriage from Williams- 
burg, Virginia, to Philadelphia. He was ten days on the 
road, and twice was obliged to hire a guide, to show the 
way to the largest city in the country. In 1777, Elkanah 
Watson rode from Newbern to Wilmington, North Caro- 
lina, on horseback, and not only lost his way, but was em- 
barrassed further by meeting a large bear. 

A person traveling in New England in 1776 would have 
found there a frugal and industrious people, dweUing gen- 
erally in or near villages, and employed mainly in trade and 
8 113 



114 The Colonists and the Revolution 




tillage. He might have seen, in the older towns, factories 
for the making of cloth, hats, shoes, axes, ropes, paper, and 
guns ; and with a sailboat he might have visited flourishing 
fisheries off the coast. The life and habits of the common 
people were extremely simple. The furniture of an ordi- 
nary house in 1776, was scanty, plain, and cheap. In many 
houses, the floor had no carpet, and the walls of that day 
had no paper nor paint. Neither pumps nor cooking- 
stoves w^ere in use. The sofa was a high-backed bench of 
unpainted wood. The rude, low bedstead was honored al- 
most always with a coat of green paint. The sewing-ma- 
chine was not dreamed of; but the spinning-wheel, flax-dis- 
taff, and yarn-reel found a place in all houses, and the 
weaver's loom could be seen in many. 

Queen's-w^are, or glazed earthenware, was unknown, yet 
well-to-do families often had sets of small china cups and 
saucers. The rich took pride in displaying urns and salvers 
of pure silver. There was no plated ware. The table was 
set with dishes of wood and of pewter. 

Our forefathers depended upon the tallow candle and 
the lard-oil lamp for artificial light. They knew nothing 
of kerosene, gas, and sulphur matches. The embers in the 



In 1776 



115 



fireplace were seldom suffered to burn out, but when the 
last coal chanced to expire, the fire was rekindled by strik- 
ing a spark from a flint into a piece of tinden Sometimes 
a burning brand was borrowed from the hearth of a 
neighbor. 

The dress of the common folk in town and country was 
more for use than beauty. A pair of buckskin breeches 
and a corduroy coat formed the essentials of a man's suit, 
and they never wore out. After the breeches had been 
rained upon a few times they hardened into a garment 
more durable than comfortable. 

The wearing apparel of fashionable people of the city, 
however, was very gay and picturesque. Men wore knee- 
breeches and hose, broad-skirted coats lined with buckram, 
long waistcoats, sometimes of gold-cloth, wide cuffs lined 
with lace, powdered wigs, three-cornered hats, and swords. 
Women's dresses were made of heavy silks and satins, called 




The act of offering and receiving a pinch of snuff. 



li6 The Colonists and the Revolution 

brocades, on which raised figures of leaves and flowers were 
woven, or worked, in colored silk or thread of silver and 
gold. 

Both sexes took pains in dressing the hair. A stylish 
gentleman had his locks curled and frizzed, or suspended 
in a queue, as you have often seen in old pictures. A New 
England belle spent many hours in plastering her hair up 
into a sort of tower, decorated with powder and ribbons. 

There were few, if any, millionaires in the early days 
of the Republic, and the power of money was not felt as 
it is now. However, the aristocracy was less approachable 
by the common people than are the higher circles of to-day, 
or, probably, of the future. This was owing to the fact 
that, at that time, American society was mainly copied after 
the English system, in which rank and title play an impor- 
tant part; and also to the influence of slavery, which ex- 
isted in all the States. 

Magistrates and clergymen were regarded, in New Eng- 
land, with extreme respect and reverence. Had our 
traveler dropped into a Puritan meeting-house, and sat 
through the service, he would have seen the minister and 
his family walk solemnly down the aisle and through the 
doorway before the congregation presumed to leave the 
pews. 

The New England country people combined amusement 
with work at their house-raisings, quilting parties, and 
like gatherings. The poet Bryant speaks of the process 
of cider-making as one that " came in among the more 
laborious rural occupations in a way which diversified 
them pleasantly, and which made it seem a pastime. The 
time that was given to making cider, and the number of 
barrels made and stored in the cellars of the farm-houses. 



In 1776 



117 



\' 



would now seem incredible. A hundred barrels to a single 
farm was no uncommon proportion." 

" But," says Doctor Greene, in his charming '' Short His- 
tory of Rhode Island," " the great pastime for young and 
old, for matron and maid and for 
youth just blushing into manhood, 
was the autumn husking, where 
neighbors met at each other's corn- 
yards to husk each other's corn — 
sometimes husking a thousand 
bushels in a single meeting. 
Husking had its laws, and never 
were laws better obeyed. For 
every red ear, the lucky swain who 
had found it could claim a kiss 
from every maid ; with every 
smutted ear he smutched the faces 
of his mates, amid laughter and 
joyous shoutings ; but when the 
prize fell to a girl, she would walk 
the round demurely, look each 
eager aspirant in the face, and 
hide or reveal the secret of her 
heart by a kiss. Then came the 
■^ dance and supper, running deep 
into the night, and often encroaching upon the early dawn." 
Our traveler would be interested in Salem, next to the 
largest town in New England, and a flourishing sea-port; 
and he certainly would have gone to Boston, then, as now, 
a center of education and culture. Many of the streets 
of Boston were narrow and crooked. Shops and inns were 
distinguished in Boston, as in other cities and towns, by 





li8 The Colonists and the Revolution 

pictorial signs for the benefit of those who could not read. 
One did not look for a lettered board, nor a number over 
the street door, but for the sign of the '' Bunch of Feath- 
ers," the " Golden Key," the '' Dog and Pot," or the 
" Three Doves." 

Had our traveler passed from New England to the State 
of New York, say at Albany, he would have had evidence 
that the frontier was not far off. Goods sent from Albany 
to supply the Indian trade, and the forts and settlements 
out West, were hauled in wagons to Schenectady, then 
loaded in light boats, and poled up the Mohaw^k to Fort 
Schuyler, then carried across to Wood Creek, and again 
transported in boats down Oneida Lake and Osage River to 
the great lakes. The town of Albany was, at that time, a 
quiet, shady, delightful place, with cow-bells tinkling in the 
streets. ^ Lazy Lidians went lounging about the principal 
thoroughfares with bead-work and baskets to sell. 

New York State continued to show evidence of Dutch 
customs, as could be seen by going down the Hudson from 
Albany to Manhattan Island. The trip was taken in regu- 
lar passenger sloops. The scenery along the Hudson was 
grander than now, for the wild forest had not disappeared 
from the hills. The passenger saw no large towns nor vil- 
lages, but farm-houses nestled in the rich hollows, and the 
Dutch " bouweries " or farms spread to view broad acres 
of corn and tobacco, and thrifty orchards of apple and 
pear trees. Just below Albany the family mansion and 
great barns of General Schuyler used to stand. The good 
general had many negro slaves, — indolent fellows, who 
were scared into occasional fits of work by the threat that 
they should be sent to the West Indies, and traded off for 
rum and molasses. 



In 1776 



119 



New York City was an important commercial center, 
larger than Boston, but not so large as Philadelphia. It 
occupied but a small part of the southern end of Manhat- 
tan Island, the whole of which it now covers. Most of its 
streets were narrow and crooked. Tradition says that the 
Dutch settlers built their houses along the winding courses 



P7 ' '-''(Ttt 

'H-nii 







' >wm& 



^• 



&. 












Colonial spinet and chest. 



of cow-paths. Broadway, however, was a fine street, even 
in the days of the Revolution, and gave promise then of 
the splendor it afterward attained. New York City, in 
1776, was lighted dimly with oil-lamps. Burning gas did 
not come into use till forty years later. Not unusually the 
New York houses were built with a flat space on the roof, 
surrounded by a railing, where the people came out on 
the house-tops on summer evenings to enjoy the pleasant 
breeze from the bay. 

Our traveler would have visited Philadelphia, the largest 
city in America, and the capital of the Republic. There he 
might have seen many evidences of wealth and social re- 



120 The Colonists and the Revolution 

finement. There were to be found noted public men from 
different parts of the country. The wise and benevolent 
Franklin lived there. There Congress met, and there 
Washington dwelt during the greater part of his adminis- 
trations. 

Philadelphia society claimed to lead the fashion in dress 
and amusements, though New York, Williamsburg, Charles- 




A colonial belle. 



ton, and other places disputed this preeminence. Fashion- 
able people frequently gave formal dinner-parties. The 
lady guests, robed in their stiff brocades, were handed from 
their coaches and sedans, and daintily stepped to the door 
of the reception-room. A sedan was a covered chair for 
carrying a single person, borne on poles in the hands of 
two men, usually negroes. The dinner consisted of four 
courses, with abundance of wine. The health of every 



In 1776 121 

guest at table had to be drunk separately, at least once dur- 
ing the sitting, as to neglect this compliment was considered 
a breach of politeness. 

After dinner, a game of whist was in order. Smoking 
w'as not fashionable, but every gentleman carried a snuff- 
box, and the act of offering and receiving a pinch of snuff 
was performed with profound ceremony. 

Dancing was a favorite amusement in all parts of the 
country. General Greene tells us that, on a certain occa- 
sion, George Washington danced for three hours without 
once sitting down. No doubt the stately V^irginian chose to 
tread the dignified measure of the contra-dance rather than 
to trip through the lighter movements of the minuet. The 
quadrilles and round dances of our day were unknown in 
1776. 

The violin was held in high esteem, especially in the 
Middle and Southern States. Thomas Jefferson said of 
Patrick Henry, that *' his passion was for fiddling, danc- 
ing, and pleasantry." Jefferson w^as himself famous for 
attending balls. Once, when he was away from home, his 
father's house burned down. A slave was sent to tell this 
bad new-s to his young master Thomas. 

*' Didn't you save any of my books? " asked the future 
author of the Declaration of Independence. 

" No, massa," answered the ebony messenger ; '' but we 
saved the fiddle ! " 

It was customary for young ladies to take lessons on the 
harpsichord or the spinet, as they do nowadays on the 
piano-forte. 

Our traveler, extending his journey to the Southern 
States, would have found few towns of considerable size, 
excepting Williamsburg and Richmond, in Virginia, and 



122 The Colonists and the Revolution 

Charleston, South CaroHna. Wealthy planters of cotton 
and rice owned most of the fertile land. The Fairfax es- 
tate, on the Potomac, had five million acres. It was quite 
an expedition to go from one planter's house to another, for 
the distance, in some cases, was as much as ten or twelve 
miles, and the roads were bad. When a visit was under- 
taken, the great family coach, drawn by four or six horses, 
driven by a pompous black coachman, conveyed the ladies, 
while the gentlemen of the party went on horseback. Not 
un frequently ladies rode behind gentlemen, mounted on 
cushions, called pillions; but the more independent of the 
" fair sex" preferred to manage their own palfrey, and to 
grace the saddle alone. Colored servants, riding* upon 
mules, jogged after their masters and mistresses, to carry 
bandboxes and parcels, and to open gates. 

Southern estates were distinguished by descriptive names, 
such as " Mount Vernon," " Monticello," " Ingleside," 
*' The Oaks." Particular mansions w^ere known, also, by 
romantic titles, — such as " Belvoir," '' Liberty Hall," 
'' Green way Court," — reminding us of old English manor- 
houses. Such Southern mansions were large and strongly 
built, and some of them were costly and elegant. " Dray- 
ton Hall," on Ashley River, cost ninety thousand dollars — 
a vast sum to spend on a house at the period of wdiich I 
write. " Drayton Hall " is yet standing, a fair specimen 
of old-fashioned architecture. The wainscot and mantels 
are of solid mahogany. The walls were once hung with 
tapestry. 

The planters, like the English rural gentry, laid off their 
grounds with terraces, hedges, and ponds, and adorned them 
with shrubbery, summer-houses, and statuary. Many lived 
at ease in the midst of plenty. They had much pride, and 



In 1776 



123 



looked down upon the laboring and trading classes of the 
North. All their work was done by slaves. The planters' 
sons were sent to the mother-country to be educated. The 
daughters were instructed by private tutors. 

Most fine gentlemen were fond of fine horses and dogs. 
There is a flavor of romance in the page of history that 
tells of Washington and his friends dashing through the 
forests of the Old Dominion, to the music of hound and 
horn. 




Early stage-coach dashing through a village. 



124 The Colonists and the Revolution 

The times of which this article treats are often spoken of 
as the *' good old days" of our ancestors; we should be 
strangely at loss if we had to live in those good old ways. 
We should consider it inconvenient enough to do without 
steam-boats, railroad, telegraph, and daily newspaper, not 
to mention horse-cars, express companies, letter-carriers, 
and the telephone. 

The farmer of 1776 had no grain-drill, harvester, or 
threshing-machine; and even his plow, ax, and hay-fork 
were so rude and clumsy that a modern laborer would laugh 
at them. 

How great, to-day, should we regard the general loss, 
were the shipper deprived of his grain-elevator; the mer- 
chant of his fire-proof safe; the publisher of his revolving 
press; the surgeon of the use of ether; the physician of vac- 
cination; the cripple of artificial limbs; the writer of en- 
velopes and metallic pens; the ladies of pins, and hooks and 
eyes ; the soldier of his breech-loading gun ! All the articles 
and arts above enumerated, and many more now considered 
essential to comfort and convenience, are of modern inven- 
tion. A hundred years ago they did not exist. 



THE AMERICAN PATRIOT'S PRAYER 

Anonymous : Ascribed to Thomas Paine. 

Parent of all, omnipotent 

In heav'n, and earth below, 
Thro' all creation's bounds unspent, 

Whose streams of goodness flow. 

Teach me to know from whence I rose, 

And unto what design'd; 
No private aims let me propose. 

Since link'd with human kind. 

But chief to hear my country's voice. 

May all my thoughts incline, 
'T is reason's law, 't is virtue's choice, 

'T is nature's call and thine. 

Me from fair freedom's sacred cause. 

Let nothing e'er divide ; 
Grandeur, nor gold, nor vain applause, 

Nor friendship false misguide. 

Let me not faction's partial hate 

Pursue to this laad's * woe ; 
Nor grasp the thunder of the state, 

To wound a private foe. 

If, for the right, to wish the wrong 

My country shall combine. 
Single to serve th' erron'ous throng, 

Spight of themselves, be mine. 



* Misprint for ''land's." 



A TORY ARGUMENT 
By Rev. Andrew Burnaby 

(Written in 1775) 

The present unhappy differences subsisting among us, 
with regard to America, will, I am sensible, expose the pub- 
lication of this account to much censure and criticism; but 
I can truly aver, that I have been led to it, by no party 
motive whatsoever. My first attachment, as it is natural, 
is to my native country ; my next is to America ; and such 
is my affection for both, that I hope nothing will ever hap- 
pen to dissolve that union, which is so necessary to their 
common happiness. Let every Englishman and American, 
but for a moment or two, substitude [-te] themselves in each 
other's place, and, I think, a mode of reconciliation will 
soon take effect. — Every American will then perceive the 
reasonableness, of acknowledging the supremacy of the Brit- 
ish legislature; and every Englishman perhaps, the 
hardship of being taxed where there is no representation, 
or assent. 

There is scarcely any such thing, I believe, as a perfect 
government, and solecisms are to be found in all. The 
present disputes are seemingly the result of one. — Noth- 
ing can be more undeniable than the supremacy of parlia- 
ment over the most distant branches of the British empire : 
for although the king being esteemed, in the eye of the law, 
the original proprietor of all the lands in the kingdom; all 

126 



A Tory Argument 127 

lands, upon defect of heirs to succeed to an inheritance, 
escheat to the king; and all new discovered lands vest in 
him: yet in neither case can he exempt them from the 
jurisdiction of the legislature of the kingdom. 

He may grant them, under leases or charters, to individ- 
uals or companies; with liberty of making rules and regula- 
tions for the internal government and improvement of them; 
but such regulations must ever be consistent with the laws 
of the kingdom, and subject to their controul. 

On the other hand, I am extremely dubious, whether it 
be consistent with the general principles of liberty (with 
those of the British constitution, I think, it is not), to tax 
where there is no representation: the arguments hitherto 
adduced from Manchester and Birmingham, and other 
great towns, not having representatives, are foreign to the 
subject; at least they are by no means equal to it; — for 
every inhabitant, possessed of forty shillings freehold, has a 
vote in the election of members for the county: but it is not 
the persons, but the property of men that is taxed, and there 
is not a foot of property in this kingdom, that is not repre- 
sented. 

It appears then, that certain principles exist in the British 
constitution, which militate with each other; the reason of 
their doing so is evident; it was never supposed that they 
would extend beyond the limits of Great Britain, or affect 
so distant a country as America. It is much to be wished, 
therefore, that some expedient could be thought of, to recon- 
cile them. 

The conduct of the several administrations, that have 
had the direction of the affairs of this kingdom, has been 
reciprocally arraigned ; but, I think, without reason ; for, 
all things considered, an impartial and dispassionate mind 



128 The Colonists and the Revolution 

will find many excuses to allege in justification of each. — 
The fewest, I am afraid, are to be pleaded in favour of the 
Americans, for they settled in America under charters, 
which expressly reserved to the British Parliament the au- 
thority, whether consistent or not consistent, now asserted. 
Although, therefore, they had a right to make humble 
representations to his majesty in parliament, and to shew 
the impropriety and inconvenience to in forcing such princi- 
ples, yet they had certainly no right to oppose them. 

Expedients may still be found, it is to be hoped however 
to conciliate the present unhappy differences, and restore 
harmony again between Great Britain and her colonies ; but 
whatever measures may be adopted by parliament, I am 
sure it is the duty of America to submit. 



THE PROLOGUE OF THE REVOLUTION 
By Justin H. Smith 

the fortune of war 

Pacing to and fro among the drifts on the Heights of 
Abraham, New Year's day of 1776, an American sentry, 
shriveled up with cold and buffeted by a gale from the 
east, beheld, when the driving snow permitted, a vast ex- 
panse of rough, enshrouded country, spattered with leafless 
trees, whistling in the blast, or funereal evergreens bowing 
before it, scarred with gray cliffs and a few brown vil- 
lages, and cut through by the hoary tide of the St. Law- 
rence, where heaving blocks of ice froze and broke, rose 
and fell, ebbed and flowed, crushed, ground, and groaned 
in the aimless melancholy of an arctic winter; while, if 
he turned his eye to the south, his vision had to travel 
across the drifts 180 miles to Montreal, 150 more to Ti- 
conderoga, then 100 to Albany, 150 more to New York, 
and 100 to Philadelphia, where sate the Conscript Fathers 
in their perplexities under the waiting bell of Lidependence 
Hall. All these miles of snow must be tediously paced 
off before the needs of the struggling soldiers could be 
told, and again paced off to bring back word that they 
were not forgotten. For weeks past communication with 
the colonies had virtually been cut off, and for weeks 

Copyright 1903 by Justin H. Smith. 
9 129 



130 The Colonists and the Revolution 




to come the route 
would be almost 
impassable. 



WAR 



EXTRAORDI- 
NARY 



Map of the Quebec and Montreal region. 



Undiscouraged, 
the Americans 
kept on " fagging 
it out " before 
Quebec. But what 
could they expect ? 
Here stood a 
powerful fortress 
with a garrison of 
eighteen hundred 
men, well drilled 
by this time, and 
a little troop of sick people pretended they were going to 
take it. Not counting the diseased and the men whose 
terms of service had expired, May-day saw only seven 
hundred effectives outside the town, and these were spread 
over a circuit of twenty-six miles, broken three times by 
the rivers. Two hundred of them had been inoculated, 
and soon would be down with the smallpox. Not more 
than three hundred could be rallied promptly to meet an 
attack. The batteries pointed about fifteen guns at Que- 
bec, and Quebec pointed one hundred and forty-eight at 
the batteries, some of them 42-pounders. The magazine 
contained only a hundred- weight and a half of powder. 
Even at headquarters, neither intrenchments nor intrench- 



The Prologue of the Revolution 131 

ing-tools could be found; and the provisions would not 
last a week. War this could hardly be called. Yet it was 
far indeed from opera bouffe. Everybody wished Lord 
North to understand that Americans were no poltroons, 
and the thought of retreat was not agreeable. As for 
Carleton, he could not count the " rebels " outside the 
gates, nor even those within, and he preferred to take no 
chances. 

Nobody in the colonies even suspected how badly things 
were going. Chase and Carroll wrote Congress in truth- 
ful black : " We cannot find words strong enough to ex- 
press our miserable situation ; you will have a faint idea of 
it if you figure to yourselves an army broken and disheart- 
ened, half of it under inoculation or other disease; soldiers 
without pay, without discipline, and altogether reduced to 
live from hand to mouth, depending on the scanty and 




Quebec from the south side of the St. Lawrence. 



132 The Colonists and the Revolution 

precarious supplies of a few half-starved cattle and trifling 
quantities of flour, which have hitherto been picked up in 
different parts of the country." 

EVERYTHING AGAINST NOTHING 

If the outlook was dark before, what should it be called 
now? Beaten, broken, penniless, underfed, poorly trained, 
poorly armed, honeycombed with a dreadful epidemic and 
the fear of it and in large part half naked, the American 
army can only be described in the words of Sullivan him- 
self: "No one thing is right." Out of eight thousand 
men Arnold reckoned on June 6 that less than five thousand 
could be mustered, while a little later the effectives were 
estimated at a third of the total. " Those who were most 
healthy went about like so many walking apparitions," 
wrote an officer, and, besides working and fighting, had to 
care for the sick among them. Worst of all, perhaps, the 
troops were ignorant of the straits of Congress, and felt 
themselves *' wholly neglected," as Thomas had written. 
Yet the " little tincture of vanity " that Washington dis- 
covered among Sullivan's admirable traits made him 
imagine vain things, and he vowed he would not retreat so 
long as a single person would stick by him. Duty rein- 
forced vanity : had not Congress ordered him to " contest 
every foot of the ground " ? 

On the British side, though Sullivan scouted the reports 
of their numbers, ten thousand regulars were now moving 
on with Carleton, the British troops gay with scarlet, and 
the Germans actually shining in their blue regimentals with 
red facings, their broad lace and their silver frogs; and all 
these troops were fresh, rosy, and eager for a fight. Cana- 
dian militia gathered about them, and the Indians were com- 



The Prologue of the Revolution 133 










The northwest part of Quebec. 

ing in. Vessels laden with choice provisionSj a fine train of 
artillery, and a plenty of war-ships rounded out the force. 
It was health against sickness, confidence against defeat, 
plenty against want, gold against paper, four against one; 
and Sullivan's bravery could only dash itself and the army 
to pieces. 

AMERICA AT STAKE 

But the destruction of an army hardly spelled one sylla- 
ble of the danger. Let Carleton only reach Longueuil 
while Sullivan awaited him at Sorel: to Chambly would 
then be only a dozen miles, a morning stroll, while Sorel 
was nearly fifty miles away; and Sullivan would be ruined 
completely. A dozen miles more to St. John's, and Arnold 
also would be cut off. Then, leaving the Canadians to 
guard his prisoners, Carleton could seize the American 



134 The Colonists and the Revolution 

bateaux, embark his men, sail to Ticonderoga, march to 
Albany, march down the Hudson, cooperate with Howe's 
powerful army, as the British government expected, 
stamp out Washington, and scatter the Conscript 
Fathers. The Declaration of Independence would not 
appear and the only question would be, how many 
insurgents to hang? *' We can hear the enemy now 
firing; this will be a hot week," wrote an officer from Sorel 
on June 13. More than a hundred British vessels were 
just below, yet Sullivan only planted himself the more 
firmly on the sandy point at the mouth of the Richelieu. 

This was the very crisis. The whole future of America 
depended now — depended on a puff of air. 

A WONDERFUL RETREAT 

At three o'clock in the afternoon of the 15th, Captain 
James Wilkinson was going down the St. Lawrence with 
a message from Arnold to Sullivan, and about fourteen 
miles below Montreal two cannon-shots were heard. Land- 
ing to investigate, he found British troops there, and the 
river beyond looked snow^y with British sails. It was Carle- 
ton. Why had he stopped short? The wind had failed 
him. 

That was a wind of destiny, indeed, and it gave the 
patriot cause a chance of life. Mounting the first horse he 
could lay hands on, Wilkinson dashed bareback to Lon- 
gueuil, forced a Canadian at the point of his sword to help 
him across the river, and gave the alarm to Arnold. But 
how could the Montreal garrison escape with its baggage 
across Carleton's advancing front? The British must be 
delayed; they must be fought; Sullivan must send a force 
to do it; and Wilkinson rode off in the darkness to carry 



The Prologue of the Revolution 135 

this message. How absurd ! Sullivan had only the debris 
of an army, sleeping in exhaustion where they could, amid 
oceans of mud and torrents of rain, with nobody awake but 
the chief officers, and not even a sentry posted to protect 
them. Demoralization seemed complete; the army was no 
more. Yet in less than an hour, when morning dawned, 
Wayne gathered a corps of cheerful, willing troops, and 
marched off to fight the governor's legions. Army or not, 
there were men still. Happily they did not have to be 
sacrificed. Arnold had already crossed the river, and soon 
was pressing forward to St. John's in safety. 

Sullivan, for his part, managed to gather his forces at 
Chambly; but there, with two armies in pursuit of him, he 
found a third enemy squarely in front. Roaring and foam- 
ing, the Chambly rapids fall a vertical distance of seventy- 
five feet, and up that height all his boats must climb. But 
the general was in earnest. Working day and night, he 
passed the rapids, burned the fort at Chambly, and hurried 
on to join Arnold, tearing up the bridges as he went. Bur- 
goyne followed. Toward evening on June 18, the British 
drew near St. John's, and their van was ordered forward 
on the run. Two horsemen, some distance ahead, watched 
the column approach. At last they turned and galloped 
back to the fort. Every American, sick or well, had em- 
barked and left the place. Every musket, every flint, every 
cannon except three poor ones abandoned at Chambly, had 
gone, and Fort St. John was in flames. The horsemen 
dismounted, shot their steeds, and tossed the harness into 
a waiting boat. One of them, Wilkinson, stepped in, and 
the other, — it w^as Arnold, — pushing the boat off, sprang 
after him. Before they were out of musket-range the 
British came up. The invasion of Canada had ended. 



136 The Colonists and the Revolution 



Carleton was eager to pursue the fugitives, but only a 
few of the boats that he requested to be sent from England 
had come, and he found it impossible to build a fleet quickly. 
The Americans, under Arnold's lead, strained every nerve 
to place armed vessels on the lake, and almost half of 

October had gone before the 
governor defeated them. It 
was then too late in the 
season for a new campaign, 
and he soon retired to win- 
ter quarters. 




General Anthony Wayne. 



What shall be our verdict 
on these events? The inva- 
sion of Canada seemed un- 
avoidable; it was boldly 
and shrewdly planned and 
bravely executed ; it missed 
its aim only by the narrow- 
est of chances. But the 
sole possible success was 
to fail, and therefore it succeeded. To have won that 
country would have required us to defend it; and any 
serious endeavor to hold Canada against Great Britain 
would have divided the resources of the colonies, exhausted 
their strength, and led to their ruin. Yet a determined 
fight was necessary, and all the benefits of that we gained. 
It rendered a British invasion from the north impossible 
in 1775 and 1776; the power of England, instead of Amer- 
ica, was divided; Carleton's ill success cost him for a time 
the king's favor; the invasion of 1777 was intrusted to a far 



The Prologue of the Revolution 137 



less dangerous man ; Bennington and Saratoga allied us with 
France; and French aid insured our independence. 

These campaigns were also a dress-rehearsal for the war. 
People realized what war meant, and Washington discov- 
ered where to look for lieutenants. In Montgomery the 
patriot cause found not only a worthy martyr, but one able 
to fire the imaginations and the hearts of men. In the cap- 
ture of regulars and fortresses, the battle with nature, the 
struggle for Quebec, 
and the stubborn re- 
treat, America saw 
that patriots could im- 
provise victories, live 
without food, battle 
without weapons, and 
die without regret. 
On the one hand, this 
enterprise helped lead 
the country from the tone of petition to the tone of inde- 
pendence ; on the other, our Declaration looks grander than 
ever, when we realize that a poor, defeated, humiliated 
people flung it into the face of triumphant power; and 
while the inevitable imperfections of humanity showed 
themselves in these campaigns, yet the lofty patriotism, the 
keen intelligence, the bold initiative, the dauntless courage, 
and the sublime fortitude exhibited there, make them not 
only the prologue of our Revolution, but the prologue of 
our national career. 



i 


' i 



On the St. Lawrence. 



WASHINGTON 
By Henry Cabot Lodge 

The brilliant historian of the English people^ has writ- 
ten of Washington, that " no nobler figure ever stood in 
the fore- front of a nation's life." In any book which un- 
dertakes to tell, no matter how slightly, the story of some 
of the heroic deeds of American history, that noble figure 
must always stand in the fore- front. But to sketch the 
life of Washington even in the barest outline is to write 
the history of the events which made the United States in- 
dependent and gave birth to the American nation. Even to 
give a list of what he did, to name his battles and recount 
his acts as president, would be beyond the limit and the 
scope of this book. Yet it is always possible to recall the 
man and to consider what he was and what he meant for 
us and for mankind. He is worthy the study and the 
remembrance of all men, and to Americans he is at once 
a great glory of their past and an inspiration and an as- 
surance of their future. 

To understand Washington at all we must first strip off 
all the myths which have gathered about him. We must 
cast aside into the dust-heaps all the wretched inventions 
of the cherry-tree variety, which were fastened upon him 
nearly seventy years after his birth. We must look at him 
as he looked at life and the facts about him, without any 

1 John Richard Green. 

138 



Washington 139 

illusion or deception, and no man in history can better 
stand such a scrutiny. 

Born of a distinguished family in the days when the 
American colonies were still ruled by an aristocracy, Wash- 
ington started wi-th all that good birth and tradition could 
give. Beyond this, however, he had little. His family 
was poor, his mother was left early a widow, and he was 
forced after a very limited education to go out into the 
world to fight for himself. He had strong within him the 
adventurous spirit of his race. He became a surveyor, and 
in the pursuit of this profession plunged into the wilder- 
ness, where he soon grew to be an expert hunter and back- 
woodsman. Even as a boy the gravity of his character and 
his mental and physical vigor commended him to those about 
him, and responsibility and military command were put in 
his hands at an age when most young men are just leaving 
college. As the times grew threatening on the frontier, he 
was sent on a perilous mission to the Indians, in which, 
after passing through many hardships and dangers, he 
achieved success. When the troubles came with France it 
was by the soldiers under his command that the first shots 
were fired in the war which was to determine whether. the 
North American continent should be French or English. 
In his earliest expedition he was defeated by the enemy. 
Later he was with Braddock, and it was he who tried to 
rally the broken English army on the stricken field near 
Fort Duquesne. On that day of surprise and slaughter 
he displayed not only cool courage but the reckless daring 
which was one of his chief characteristics. He so exposed 
himself that bullets passed through his coat and hat, and 
the Indians and the French who tried to bring him down 
thought he bore a charmed life. He afterwards served with 



140 The Colonists and the Revolution 

distinction all through the French war, and when peace 
came he went back to the estate which he had inherited 
from his brother, the most admired man in Virginia. 

At that time he married, and during the ensuing year he 
lived the life of a Virginia planter, successful in his pri- 
vate affairs and serving the public effectively but quietly 
as a member of the House of Burgesses. When the 
troubles with the mother-country began to thicken he was 
slow to take extreme ground, but he never wavered in his 
belief that all attempts to oppress the colonies should be 
resisted, and when he once took up his position there was 
no shadow of turning. He was one of Virginia's dele- 
gates to the first Continental Congress, and, although he 
said but little, he was regarded by all the representatives 
from the other colonies as the strongest man among them. 
There was something about him even then which com- 
manded the respect and the confidence of every one who 
came in contact with him. 

It was from New England, far removed from his own 
State, that the demand came for his appointment as com- 
mander-in-chief of the American army. Silently he ac- 
cepted the duty, and, leaving Philadelphia, took command 
of the army at Cambridge. There is no need to trace him 
through the events that followed. From the time when he 
drew his sword under the famous elm tree, he was the em- 
bodiment of the American Revolution, and without him 
that revolution would have failed almost at the start. How 
he carried it to victory through defeat and trial and every 
possible obstacle is known to all men. 

When it was all over he found himself facing a new 
situation. He was the idol of the country and of his 
soldiers. The army was unpaid, and the veteran troops. 




George Washington. 



142 The Colonists and the Revolution 

with arms in their hands, were eager to have him take 
control of the disordered country as Cromwell had done in 
England a little more than a century before. With the 
army at his back, and supported by the great forces which, 
in every community, desire order before everything else, 
and are ready to assent to any arrangement which will 
bring peace and quiet, nothing would have been easier than 
for Washington to have made himself the ruler of the 
new nation. But that w^as not his conception of duty, and 
he not only refused to have anything to do with such a 
movement himself, but he repressed, by his dominant per- 
sonal influence, all such intentions on the part of the army. 
On the 23d of December, 1783, he met the Congress at 
Annapolis, and there resigned his commission. What he 
then said is one of the two most memorable speeches ever 
made in the United States, and is also memorable for its 
meaning and spirit among all speeches ever made by men. 
He spoke as follows : 

Mr. President: — The great events on which my resignation 
depended having at length taken place, I have now the honor of 
offering my sincere congratulations to Congress, and of presenting 
myself before them, to surrender into their hands the trust com- 
mitted to me and to claim the indulgence of retiring from the 
service of my country. 

Happy in the confirmation of our independence and sovereignty, 
and pleased with the opportunity afforded the United States of 
becoming a respectable nation, I resign with satisfaction the ap- 
pointment I accepted with diflfidence ; a diffidence in my abilities to 
accomplish so arduous a task, which, however, was superseded by 
a confidence in the rectitude of our cause, the support of the su- 
preme power of the Union, and the patronage of Heaven. 

The successful termination of the war has verified the most 
sanguine expectations, and my gratitude fgr the interposition of 



Washington 143 

Providence and the assistance I have received from my country- 
men increases with every review of the momentous contest. 

While I repeat my obHgations to the Army in general, I should 
do injustice to my own feelings not to acknowledge, in this place, 
the peculiar services and distinguished merits of the Gentlemen 
who have been attached to my person during the war. It was 
impossible that the choice of confidential officers to compose my 
family should have been more fortunate. Permit me, sir, to rec- 
ommend in particular those who have continued in service to the 
present moment as worthy of the favorable notice and patronage 
of Congress. 

I consider it an indispensable duty to close this last solemn act 
of my official life by commending the interests of our dearest 
country to the protection of Almighty God, and those who have 
the superintendence of them to His holy keeping. 

Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the 
great theater of action, and, bidding an affectionate farewell to 
this august body, under whose orders I have so long acted, I 
here offer my commission and take my leave of all the employ- 
ments of public life. 

The great master of English fiction, writing of this 
scene at Annapolis, says : *' Which was the most splendid 
spectacle ever witnessed — the opening feast of Prince 
George in London, or the resignation of Washington? 
Which is the noble character for after ages to admire — 
yon fribble dancing in lace and spangles, or yonder hero 
who sheathes his sword after a life of spotless honor, a 
purity unreproached, a courage indomitable and a consum- 
mate victory? " 

Washington did not refuse the dictatorship, or, rather, 
the opportunity to take control of the country, because he 
feared heavy responsibility, but solely because, as a high- 
minded and patriotic man, he did not believe in meeting 
the situation in that way. He was, moreover, entirely 



144 The Colonists and the Revolution 



devoid of personal ambition, and had no vulgar longing 
for personal power. After resigning his commission he 
returned quietly to Mount Vernon, but he did not hold 
himself aloof from public affairs. On the contrary, he 
watched their course with the utmost anxiety. He saw 
the feeble Confederation breaking to pieces, and he soon 
realized that that form of government was an utter failure. 
In a time when no American statesman except Hamilton 

had yet freed himself 
from the local feelings of 
the colonial days, Wash- 
ington was thoroughly 
national in all his views. 
Out of the thirteen jar- 
__ ring colonies he meant 

that a nation should 

Washington's chest. ^^^^^^ ^nd he saw — 

what no one else saw — the destiny of the country to the 
westward. He wished a nation founded which should 
cross the Alleghanies, and, holding the mouths of the 
Mississippi, take possession of all that vast and then un- 
known region. For these reasons he stood at the head of 
the national movement, and to him all men turned who 
desired a better union and sought to bring order out of 
chaos. With him Hamilton and Madison consulted in the 
preliminary stages which were to lead to the formation of 
a new system. It was his vast personal influence which 
made that movement a success, and when the convention 
to form a constitution met at Philadelphia, he presided 
over its deliberations, and it was his commanding will 
which, more than anything else, brought a constitution 




Washington 145 

through difficulties and conflicting interests which more 
than once made any result seem well-nigh hopeless. 

When the Constitution formed at Philadelphia had been 
ratified by the States, all men turned to Washington to 
stand at the head of the new government. As he had 
borne the burden of the Revolution, so he now took up the 
task of bringing the government of the Constitution into 
existence. For eight years he served as president. He 
came into office with a paper constitution, the heir of a 
bankrupt, broken-down confederation. He left the United 
States, when he went out of office, an effective and vigorous 
government. When' he was inaugurated, we had nothing 
but the clauses of the Constitution as agreed to by the Con- 
vention. When he laid down the presidency, we had an 
organized government, an established revenue, a funded 
debt, a high credit, an efficient system of banking, a strong 
judiciary, and an army. We had a vigorous and well- 
defined foreign policy; we had recovered the western posts, 
which, in the hands of the British, had fettered our march 
to the west; and we had proved our power to maintain 
order at home, to repress insurrection, to collect the na- 
tional taxes, and to enforce the laws made by Congress. 
Thus Washington had shown that rare combination of the 
leader who could first destroy by revolution, and who, hav- 
ing led his country through a great civil war, was then 
able to build up a new and lasting fabric upon the ruins of 
a system which had been overthrown. At the close of his 
official service he returned again to Mount Vernon, and, 
after a few years of quiet retirement, died just as the cen- 
tury in which he had played so great a part was closing. 

Washington stands among the greatest men of human 



146 The Colonists and the Revolution 

history, and those in the same rank with him are very few. 
Whether measured by what he did, or what he was, or by 
the effect of his work upon the history of mankind, in 
every aspect he is entitled to the place he holds among the 
greatest of his race. Few men in all time have such a 
record of achievement. Still fewer can show at the end of 
a career so crowded with high deeds and memorable vic- 
tories a life so free from spot, a character so unselfish and 
so pure, a fame so void of doubtful points demanding either 
defense or explanation. Eulogy of such a life is needless, 
but it is always important to recall and to freshly remember 
just what manner of man he was. In the first place he 
was physically a striking figure. He was very tall, power- 
fully made, with a strong, handsome face. He was remark- 
ably muscular and powerful. As a boy he was a leader 
in all outdoor .sports. No one could fling the bar further 
than he, and no one could ride more difficult horses. As a 
young man he became a woodsman and hunter. Day after 
day he could tramp through the wilderness with his gun 
and his surveyor's chain, and then sleep at night beneath the 
stars. He feared no exposure or fatigue, anA oucdid the 
hardiest backwoodsman in following a wintef trail and 
swimming icy streams. This habit of vigorous bodily 
exercise he carried through life. Whenever he was at 
Mount Vernon he gave a large part of his time to fox- 
hunting, riding after his hounds through the most difficult 
country. His physical power and endurance counted for 
much in his success when he commanded his army, and 
when the heavy anxieties of general and president weighed 
upon his mind and heart. 

He was an educated, but not a learned man. He read 



Washington 



147 



well and remembered what he read, but his life was, from 

the beginning, a life of action, and the world of men was 

his school. He was not a military genius like Hannibal, 

or Caesar, or Napoleon, of which the world 

has had only three or four examples. But 

he was a great soldier of the type which the 

English race has produced, like Marlborough 

and Cromwell, Wellington, Grant, and Lee. 

He was patient under defeat, capable of large 

combinations, a stubborn and often reckless 

fighter, a winner of battles, but much more, 

a conclusive winner in a long war of varying 

fortunes. He was, in addition, what very 

few great soldiers or commanders have ever 

been, a great constitutional statesman, able 

to lead a people along the paths of free 

government without undertaking himself to 

play the part of the strong man, the usurper, 

or the saviour of society. 

He was a very silent man. Of no man of 
equal importance in the world's history have 
we so few sayings of a personal kind. He 
was ready enough to talk or to write about 
the public duties which he had in hand, but 
he hardly ever talked of himself. Yet there 
can be no greater error than to suppose 
Washington cold and unfeeling, because of 
his silence and reserve. He was by nature 
a man of strong desires and stormy passions. Now and 
again he would break out, even as late as the presidency, 
into a gust of anger that would sweep everything before it. 



m l^^. 



Washington's 
sword. 



148 The Colonists and the Revolution 

He was always reckless of personal danger, and had a 
fierce fighting spirit which nothing could check when it was 
once unchained. 

But as a rule these fiery impulses and strong passions 
were under the absolute control of an iron will, and they 
never clouded his judgment or warped his keen sense of jus- 
tice. 

But if he was not of a cold nature, still less was he hard 
or unfeeling. His pity always went out to the poor, the 
oppressed, or the unhappy, and he was all that was kind 
and gentle to those immediately about him. 

We have to look carefully into his life to learn all these 
things, for the world saw only a silent, reserved man, of 
courteous and serious manner, who seemed to stand alone 
and apart, and who impressed every one who came near 
him with a sense of awe and reverence. 

One quality he had which was, perhaps, more charac- 
teristic of the man and his greatness than any other. This 
was his perfect veracity of mind. He was, of course, the 
soul of truth and honor, but he was even more than that. 
He never deceived himself. He always looked facts 
squarely in the face and dealt with them as such, dreaming 
no dreams, cherishing no delusions, asking no impossibili- 
ties, — just to others as to himself, and thus winning alike 
in war and in peace. 

He gave dignity as well as victory to his country and 
his cause. He was, in truth, a '' character for after ages 
to admire." 



WASHINGTON AS AN ATHLETE 
By Mrs. Burton Harrison 

No boy can imagine a better place in which to grow up 
than Virginia in the days of Washington's boyhood. The 
house of every planter in the '' tide- water " region, w^here 
families first formed into what they called neighborhoods, 
was built in the midst of a vast estate. To go abroad meant 
to tramp or ride for hours on one's own land, in glorious 
forests where the wigwam's smoke had scarcely ceased to 
curl. Deer looked with mild-eyed wonder at the passers- 
by. Small game of infinite variety was to be had by rais- 
ing a rifle to the shoulder. Grapes and nuts grew upon 
low-swung branches, and springs of delicious water bubbled 
under foot. In the clearings the rich soil laughed when 
they tickled it, yielding corn and tobacco, vegetables and 
flowers. 

As early as 1623, there was a famous plantation upon 
the lower James, called Littleton, where peach trees bore 
luscious fruit, and in the garden of two acres belonging to 
the house grew " primroses, sage, marjoram, and rose- 
mary," to remind its owner of the Old Country; while his 
orchards were filled with '^ apple, cherry, pear, and plum 
trees." Most of the plantations bordered upon majestic 
rivers, whose shallows supplied oysters, terrapins, crabs, and 
ducks, in countless numbers. The waters of such streams, 
warmed by the southern sun, making bathing and swim- 
ming a luxury, were alive with fish, both great and small. 

149 



150 The Colonists and the Revolution 

Whatever those old Virginians lacked, it was not good 
things to eat, while Nature thus emptied her horn of plenty 
at their doors! 

Life under such conditions, with a horde of lazy, well- 
fed colored people to do the farm-work, guests on horse- 
back coming, going, staying as long as it pleased them to 
rest their horses, was a very easy one. The occupations of 
the men were almost entirely out-of-doors. Hunting, fox- 
chasing, angling, trapping, breaking colts, and riding around 
their big estates, filled up their days. Until of an age to 
be put aboard some slow-sailing tobacco ship, and started in 
the captain's care to some relative or friend in England, 
who would superintend their schooling, the sons of the 
colonists followed in the footsteps of their sires. 

In this way was nursed the generation that produced the 
band of Virginian patriots of which Washington was chief. 
Luckily for him and for America, Washington's bringing 
up was less luxurious than that of his friends and kinsmen. 
Circumstances, and his mother, trained the lad to be as 
hardy as an Lidian on the war-path, and as simple and self- 
reliant as a New England farm-boy of the type that gave 
statesmen to the North. For him, there was no voyage to 
the mother-country, with grand opportunities for rubbing 
off colonial awkwardness. His first schooling (if the 
chronicler Weems be right) was derived from one of his 
father's tenants — a slow, rusty old man named Hobby, 
who was sexton as well as dominie, and who, in the inter- 
vals of teaching " the three R's " to the neighbors' girls and 
boys, swept out the church, and, now and then, dug a grave. 
The next master was a certain Mr. Williams, graduate of 
the Wakefield school in Yorkshire, upon whom Weems be- 



Washington as an Athlete 151 

stows this rap, in passing: ''Mr. Williams, George's first 
tutor, knew as little Latin as Balaam's ass." 

Latin or not, George acquired the foundation of a fair 
education for that time, and to this his enormous industry, 
aided by much reading of good English literature in after 
days, supplied what was lacking. 

People who have forgotten Washington's battles remem- 
ber the cherry-tree and his hatchet. Weems started that 
pleasing tale, and it is he who tells also of a race on foot 
between George and his neighbor, " Langy Dade." 

First, let me tell you — for boys to-day resemble the 
Apostle Paul in one thing, certainly: they like to prove all 
things — that among the many authors who have written 
about the youth of Washington, the one upon whose pre- 
serves all the rest have browsed, whose quaint stories have 
come to be our classics, w^as this very Parson Weems. 

People who have grown up in the neighborhood of 
Mount Vernon, where Weems was well known, are not 
quite sure whether there ever was a hatchet — or, for that 
matter, even a cherry-tree in the garden of excellent Mr. 
Augustine Washington, near Fredericksburg! 

For Parson Weems was reputed to have a very vivid 
imagination. He used to drive about Fairfax County in 
an old-fashioned gig with a calash, peddling his own books 
and others, from plantation to plantation. When he suc- 
ceeded in making a sale, he would whip out the fiddle that 
always accompanied him, and, standing up in his gig, play 
the merriest, maddest dance-music. The negroes, who 
stood gaping round his gig, could no more resist him than 
the rats could resist the Pied Piper of Hamelin! First, 
they swayed, then they beat time with foot and hand, and 



152 



The Colonists and the Revolution 



at last broke into a regular corn-shucking jig! When 
Weems remained overnight at the house of one of his 
patrons, he would volunteer to read family prayers, and at 
the moment the last " Amen " was said, would fall to play- 
ing reels and jigs upon his fiddle. His sermons were the 
oddest ever heard from a Church of England clergyman. 
He was often at Mount Vernon, and from General and 
Mrs. Washington he received many kindnesses. In the 
course of much fireside gossip, during his wanderings from 
one country-house to another, Mr. Weems picked up the 
anecdotes of Washington's youth, which he has told in his 
book. And if you are ever so fortunate as to visit the 
rooms of the Society Library in University Place, New 
York, ask permission to see a copy they have there, an 
early edition, of this famous '' Life of George Washing- 
ton." It was published in 1814, with an introduction by 
" Light Horse Harry Lee." 

And now for the foot-races, as reported by Parson 
Weems : '' ' Egad ! he ran wonderfully,' 
said my amiable and aged friend, John 
Fitzhugh, Esq., who knew Washington 
well. ' We had nobody hereabouts that 
could come near him. There was a 
young Langhorn Dade of Westmoreland, 
a confounded clean-made, tight young 
fellow, and a mighty swift runner, too. 
But then, he was no match for George. 
Langy, indeed, did not like to give it up, 
and would brag that he had sometimes brought George to a 
tie. But I believe he was mistaken, for I have seen them 
run together many a time, and George always beat him easy 
enough.' " 




Washington as an Athlete 153 

As in running, so in wrestling, in the use of foils, in high- 
jumping, climbing, shooting at a mark, and pitching quoits, 
George excelled his mates. Before our war between the 
States, they used to show at an old tobacco-warehouse in 
Alexandria some weights, — one, I believe, of more than 
fifty pounds, — said to have been thrown by Washington in 
a match where first boys, then men, were surpassed and put 
to confusion by his achievements. His unusually long arms 
and immense hands were justly a source of wonder in such 
contests. 

The river near which was his first home, — the Rappa- 
hannock, — while not so wide as the Potomac or the James, 
is yet wide enough to fill with astonishment the looker-on 
who is to-day shown where young Washington threw a piece 
of slate the size of a silver dollar across the river, clearing 
thirty yards beyond the opposite bank. Of the many who 
have since tried to emulate this feat, not one, it is claimed, 
has succeeded in clearing even the water there. Another 
time; Washington stood in the bed of the stream running 
under the Natural Bridge of Virginia, which towers two 
hundred feet above, and hurled a stone upon the top of the 
arch. And again, when older, he threw a stone from the 
Palisades into the Hudson. 

Washington never lost his taste for this branch of athlet- 
ics. Charles Wilson Peale, the soldier-artist, who por- 
trayed several of the heroes of the Revolution at head- 
quarters during their campaigns, was himself an adept in 
athletic exercises. On one occasion, in 1772, while at 
Mount Vernon, there was upon the lawn a party of young 
fellows, playing at " pitching the bar," when Colonel Wash- 
ington suddenly appeared among them, and, without tak- 
ing off his coat, held out his hand to claim the bar. " No 



154 The Colonists and the Revolution 

sooner," said Peale, in describing the scene to a friend, 
" did the heavy iron bar feel the grasp of his mighty hand 
than it lost the power of gravitation and v^hizzed through 
the air, striking the ground far, very far, beyond our ut- 
most limits. We were indeed amazed as we stood around, 
all stripped to the buff, with shirt-sleeves rolled up, and 
having thought ourselves very clever fellow^s; while the 
Colonel, on retiring, pleasantly observed, ' When you beat 
my pitch, young gentlemen, I '11 try again.' " 

A tale still current in Washington's old home neighbor- 
hood in Virginia recounts how once as a stripling he sat 
reading under the shade of an oak-tree near his school. 
Some of his friends had engaged a champion wrestler 
of the county to test their strength in an impromptu ring. 
One after another fell a victim to the champion's skill, till, 
grown bold at last, he strode back and forth like one of the 
giants of old-time romance, daring the only boy who had 
not wrestled with him either to put his book down and 
come into the ring or own himself afraid! • 

This was more than the self-contained Washington could 
stand. Quietly closing his book, he accepted the challenge. 
Long after, when the student under the oak-tree had be- 
come the conqueror with whose honored name the whole 
civilized world resounded, the ex-champion told what fol- 
lowed, " After a fierce, short struggle," he said, " I felt 
myself grasped and hurled upon the ground, with a jar that 
shook the marrow of my bones." 

With the memory of these boyish encounters in mind, 
and witji all his sympathy for athletic exercises, think what 
it must have been to Washington, when Commander-in- 
Chief of the Revolutionary Army, to come upon a party 
of his young officers amusing themselves at a game of 



Washington as an Athlete 



155 



'' fives," and, in spite of his evident enjoyment of the sport, 
to find them too much overcome v^ith awe to go on playing. 

It was in vain that the General encouraged them to re- 
sume their sport ; so, at last, feeling that greatness has its 
drawbacks, he bowed, wished his officers good-day, and 
walked away. 

As a horseman, from 
beginning to end of his 
vigorous life, Washington 
had no peer. Like all Vir- 
ginian boys, he took to the 
saddle as a duck takes to 
water. Once astride his 
steed, it was all but im- 
possible to dislodge him. 
From the day when as a 
lad he first rode ^o hounds 
after old Lord Fairfax, of 
Greenway Court, across 
the county named for that 
worthy nobleman, he was 
a skilled and dashing fox- 
hunter. Li the army, 
when on horseback, riding down the line, cheered to 
the echo by the soldiers, who believed, with a supersti- 
tion worthy of the ancients, that here was a being born 
to lead them, he was physically the most imposing fig- 
ure present. In person, Washington showed in his ma- 
turity the fruits of the lifetime he had given to what ath- 
letes nowadays call " training." His habits, at all times, 
were those exacted of a "crew" or ''team" of modern 
days, before the occasions when those heroes appear in 




Washington's secretary and book- 
case. 



156 The Colonists and the Revolution 

public, to fill with despair or exultation the bosoms of their 
friends. From the Indians of the Shenandoah wilderness, 
among whom he spent weeks during his first surveying tour, 
he learned the swift, elastic tread that distinguished him in 
walking. His powers of endurance were worthy of his 
extraordinary physical strength, though it must be said he 
had few illnesses to test his constitution, and, indeed, was 
rarely ailing. It may be some consolation to aspirant 
heroes of the future to hear, while upon this topic, that 
Mrs. Washington said it was well the general was so rarely 
ill, as she could never get him to take his medicine ! 



THE SIGNERS OF THE DECLARATION 
OF INDEPENDENCE 

By Mary V. Worstell 

How many boys and girls can tell, without a moment's 
hesitation, the number of men who signed the Declaration 
of Independence? There are doubtless many who can 
answer correctly, fifty-six. 

But how much do we know about the lives and person- 
alities of these men? and have we ever stopped to think 
what it meant to them to put their names to the most 
famous document in the history of our country? Now and 
then we meet people who can say that they are descendants 
of some " signer," and very proud they seem to be of that 
fact. They may well be proud, for consider for a moment 
what it meant to sign the Great Document. It meant that 
the signer publicly proclaimed himself an enemy to a great 
and powerful king — became a rebel, in fact ; and we all 
know the fate that commonly overtakes rebels. To-day we 
seldom think of the trials and misfortunes that followed the 
signing; we think only of the glory. 

Although George HI paid little attention to the many 
protests that had been presented to him by the colonies, he 
yet kept a close watch on these restless subjects, and his rep- 
resentatives well knew all that was going on. 

To the Second Continental Congress, assembled in Phila- 
delphia in 1776, were sent, from the thirteen original colo- 

157 



158 The Colonists and the Revolution 




Signing the Declaration. 

nies, delegates whose loyalty was undoubted. ' Patriotism 
was not profitable in those far-away days. Robert IMorris, 
the great financier of the Revolution, sacrificed a large for- 
tune in his country's behalf; Thomas Nelson, of Virginia, 
also lost a large fortune by the war; while the immortal 
Samuel Adams, who dedicated his life to the service of his 
beloved country, lived and died a poor man. 

But let me present to you, very briefly, these fifty-six 
men; and possibly, after this introduction, you may wish 
to know more of their lives and achievements. 



GEORGIA 



Georgia sent three delegates, and of these (i) George 
Walton was the youngest. He was an ambitious boy who 
was apprenticed to a carpenter so niggardly that he would 
not allow the lad a candle by which to study. Luckily, 



The Signers of the Declaration 159 




George Walton 



Lyman Hall 



Button Gwinnett 



wood was plentiful, and by the light of a burning torch 
Walton studied hard and in time became a lawyer. (2) 
Lyman Hall came from New England. Before he was 
twenty-one he had married and settled in Georgia, to which 
place he was accompanied by about forty families. The 
patriotism of these settlers has left a permanent impress on 
the State, for its counties were named after such British 
statesmen as showed themselves friends to the American 
colonies. Look them up on the map and see if this is not 
so. You will find also a county named after this signer. 
(3) Button Gwinnett was an Englishman who came to 
this country when he was thirty-eight years old. He took 
up the cause of the oppressed colonies with much enthusiasm 
— too much, in fact, for he became involved in a quarrel, 
and in the duel which followed he lost his life. 



SOUTH CAROLINA 

South Carolina furnished four delegates, among them ( i ) 
Edward Rutledge, who was the youngest man to sign the 
Declaration, for he was only twenty-seven at the time. All 
of the South Carolina signers — Rutledge, (2) Arthur 
Middleton, (3) Thomas Heyward, Jr., and (4) Thomas 



l6o The Colonists and the Revolution 





Edward Rutledge 



Arthur Middleton 



Thomas Heyward, Jr. 



Lynch, Jr. — came of wealthy famihes, and the three former 
had received the benefit of a foreign education. Three 
years after signing the Declaration, Thomas Lynch, then 
in poor health, sailed for France, and his ship never was 
heard of again. While Arthur Middleton w^as in Phila- 
delphia, a delegate to the Second Con- 
tinental Congress, he and John Han- 
cock, with their families, occupied the 
same house. Both men were wealthy 
and hospitable, and they drew around 
them a choice circle of friends. Lynch 
was the only signer from South Car- 
Thomas Lnch Tr oHna who did not suffer imprisonment 
for his efforts in his country's behalf. 




NORTH CAROLINA 

North Carolina sent three delegates. ( i ) Joseph Hewes 
was born a Quaker; he was a man of intense patriotism, 
and in time he became the first Secretary of the Navy, with 
almost unlimited powers ; and though to him the war meant 
great financial loss, he never swerved in his devotion to his 
country. (2) William Hooper was a Boston man who was 



The Signers of the Declaration l6l 





William Hooper 



Joseph Hewes 



partly educated by 
his father, who was 
pastor of Trinity 
Church. Having 

studied law, he set- 
tled in North Car- 
olina; but his life 
in the new country 
proved a hard one, 
for the only way of traveling was on horseback, and 
some of the courts were two hundred miles from his 
home. (3) John Penn was a bright boy whose early 
education w^as neglected, but this loss 
was speedily made good when his 
relative, the distinguished Edmund 
Pendleton, placed his fine library at 
the lad's disposal. John Penn filled 
many ofiices, and on the return of 
peace he withdrew to private life, not 
enriched, but impoverished, by the of- 
fices he had held. 




John Penn 



MARYLAND 

Maryland sent four delegates, (i) William Paca was 
a man of graceful address and polished manners and came 
of a fine old family, while (2) Thomas Stone was a 
younger son with no prospects at all. But he was eager for 
an education, and he secured it by daily attendance at a 
school ten miles from his home. It would be easy to pre- 
dict success for a boy of such pluck ; and indeed he achieved 
success, for five times he was elected to Congress. (3) 



l62 The Colonists and the Revolution 




William Paca 

much interested. 






Thomas Stone 



Samuel Chase was 

called the " Demos- 
thenes of Maryland/' 

He was a fine orator 

and a kindly man as 

well. One time, on 

a visit to Baltimore, 

he met a young man 

in whom he became 

He not only placed his library at his 
disposal ; he invited him to make his home with him. 
Chase lived to see his generosity justified, for the young 
man was no other than William Pinckney, one of the most 

distinguished law- 
yers our country 

has ever produced. 

(4) Charles Carroll 

of Carrollton (the 

"of Carrollton" was 

added by him to 

identify himself for 

punishment in case 
the mother-country won) and destined to outlive all the 
others. 





Charles Carroll 



Samuel Chase 



DELAWARE 

Delaware sent three representatives, (i) George Read 
was a man of cool and deliberate judgment in spite of Irish 
descent; and an interesting phase of his character is shown 
in the fact that his first act as a lawyer was to give up 
all rights to his father's estate, declaring that his education 



The Signers of the Declaration 163 





George Read 



Thomas McKean 



represented his 

proper share. (2) 
Thomas McKean 
was a truly remark- 
able man. For fifty 
years he was in 
public life, and he 
filled many promi- 
nent and honorable 

offices. For many years he was Governor of Pennsylvania. 

The third delegate, (3) Caesar Rodney, chanced to be in 

Delaware when the Declaration was ready for signing. 

Read was slow to favor independence, while McKean was 

eager for it. The vote of Rodney, 

therefore, would turn the scales for 

Delaware, so McKean sent a special 

messenger to Rodney, urging his im- 
mediate return to Philadelphia. The 

result was a hurried ride on horseback 

of eighty miles ; a historic ride that 

decided the vote for the Declaration. 

Rodney reached Philadelphia just in 

the nick of time, and an old record says that " he 

with his boots on." 




voted 



RHODE ISLAND 



Rhode Island furnished two delegates, ( i ) Stephen Hop- 
kins and (2) William Ellery. Next to Benjamin Franklin, 
Hopkins was the oldest man to sign the Declaration. 
Though his education was meager, he was ambitious to 
learn, and by hard study he became a fine mathematician 



164 The Colonists and the Revolution 

and surveyor. William Ellery paid dearly for his con- 
nection with the Contin^^ntal Congress, for the British 





Stephen Hopkins 



William Ellery 



burned his home, and other property of his was seriously 
damaged. 



NEW HAMPSHIRE 



Of New Hampshire's three delegates, two were physi- 
cians. When ( I ) Dr. Matthew Thornton was only thirty- 





Matthew Thornton 



Josiah Bartlett 



William Whipple 



one he took part in the famous capture of Louisbourg by 
Pepperel and Warren, assuming, with success, the medical 
care of the New Hampshire division. (2) Dr. Josiah 



The Signers of the Declaration 165 

Bartlett was an energetic man whose profession could not 
keep him out of pohtical Hfe. During the sixty-six years 
of his Hfe he did the work of a dozen men. (3) Wilham 
Whipple began his life under unfavorable circumstances, 
for he was a sailor, and before he was twenty-one he was 
in charge of a vessel engaged in importing slaves. But 
this life was soon given up, and he rendered fine service 
in Congress, where his knowledge of naval affairs proved 
valuable on various committees. 



CONNECTICUT 

Connecticut furnished four delegates. ( i ) Oliver Wol- 
cott came of a famous Connecticut family and was destined 
for the medical profession. But he soon abandoned medi- 
cine for politics and military life, and quickly rose to dis- 
tinction. (2) William Williams was a nephew of Colonel 
Ephraim Williams, who founded Williamstown and Wilh 
iams College. With this uncle, William Williams, while 
still a young man, made a journey to Lake George, and 
the glimpse of military life under British officers that 
this afforded served to strengthen his wish for indepen- 
dence. 

Connecticut may well be proud of (3) Samuel Hunting- 
ton and (4) Roger Sherman, for the first was a farmer's 
son, yet so eager was he for an education that he not only 
acquired it, but he held high offices. In 1780 this farmer's 
son was President of Congress and later Governor of Con- 
necticut, while Roger Sherman spent the first twenty-two 
years of his life at the cobbler's bench. But a book was al- 
ways close at hand, so that every spare moment might be 



l66 The Colonists and the Revolution 

put to good use. He not only filled many public offices ; he 
was one of the five appointed to draw up the Declaration — 
a great honor, only to be bestowed on one of ripe judgment. 





Oliver Wolcott 



William Williams 




Samuel Huntington 



Rooer Sherman 



John Adams said that '' Roger Sherman had a clear head 
and a steady heart, and was one of the soundest and 
strongest pillars of the Revolution." 



NEW YORK 



New York sent four representatives. ( i ) Both Francis 
Lewis and (2) William Floyd were of Welsh descent, and 
both made to suffer greatly for signing the Declaration, 



The Signers of the Declaration 167 

for their homes were plundered and destroyed by the British. 
(3) Lewis Morris, still another New York signer, was made 
to suffer also, for he was a rich man with a great estate. 



.i 





Francis Lewis 



Lewis Morris 





Philip Livingston 



William Floyd 



A British force was stationed near his home; nevertheless, 
he pluckily put his name to the document. In revenge, 
the British burned his home and more than a thousand 
acres of woodland. But the patriotism of Lewis Morris 
never wavered, and in time his three sons took up arms 
in behalf of their country. The name of Livingston has 
long been an honored one in the annals of New York City. 
In 1746 there were but few in the whole colony who had 



l68 The Colonists and the Revolution 

received a college education, and of these (4) Philip Liv- 
ingston was one. After graduating from Yale College 
he engaged in commerce and soon laid the foundation of 
an ample fortune. At the age of forty-six his health 
failed, but, being a member of Congress, he would not 
abandon the duties of his office. He died while in office, 
deeply lamented by the young nation he had served so 
faithfully. 

NEW JERSEY 

Of the five delegates sent to Philadelphia by New Jersey, 
two were farmers, (i) John Hart and (2) Abraham Clark. 
When the British invaded New Jersey, Hart's home and 
farm were laid waste and Hart himself, then a man of 
seventy-one, was hunted from place to place. Tradition 
says that at one time he was so sorely beset that he w^as 
obliged to hide in a dog-kennel. It is pleasant to know 
that he lived to repair the damage done by his enemies. 
Abraham Clark was one of those who were eager for in- 
dependence, and he did all in his power to secure it for his 
country. (3) Francis Hopkinson was a fine student and a 
member of the first class that the University of Pennsyl- 
vania ever graduated. No noisy fun for him, for, as Dr. 
Benjamin Rush quaintly says of him, " his wit was mild 
and elegant and infused cheerfulness and a species of deli- 
cate joy into the hearts of all who heard it." (4) Richard 
Stockton was a man of wealth, position, and culture. He 
was born in the town of Princeton, New Jersey, and he 
conferred a great favor on the college there when he in- 
duced to come to this country (5) Dr. John Witherspoon, 
a learned Scottish divine. Dr. Witherspoon was the only 



The Signers of the Declaration 169 

clergyman to sign the Declaration. He was the sixth presi- 
dent of Princeton College, and devoted himself not only to 



"■^'•^. 



\ 



h; ^ 




Abraham Clark 




Francis Hopkinson 



1/ 




John Hart 



John Witherspoon 



Richard Stockton 



the college, but to the country of his adoption, for it is said 
that he became an American and an ardent patriot as soon 
as he reached our shores. 



PENNSYLVANIA 



Pennsylvania sent more delegates than any other colony 
— nine, (i) Benjamin Franklin was the oldest of all the 
signers. We may be sure that this truly great man was a 
prominent figure in that remarkable gathering. Almost 



lyo The Colonists and the Revolution 

as notable was (2) Robert Morris, the great financier of 
the Revolution. Though he was slow at first to favor 
independence, later he showed the truest patri- 
otism, for his financial aid tided the young country over 
serious difficulties. '' The Americans," says one historian, 
" owe as much acknowledgment to the financial operations 
of Robert Morris as to the negotiations of Benjamin Frank- 
lin, or even to the arms of Washington." (3) Dr. Benja- 
min Rush may well be honored, for he was a physician of 
high standing; and in 1793, when Philadelphia was visited 
by yellow fever, and more than 4500 fell victims in three 
months. Dr. Rush was one of three physicians who nobly 
remained at their posts. (4) James Wilson was a young 
Scotchman who came to this country when he was twenty- 
one. By the time he was only twenty-six he was the ac- 
knowledged head of the Philadelphia bar. The name of 
this signer has recently been brought into notice. He died 
w^hile at Edenton, North Carolina, but in 1906 his remains 
were brought to Philadelphia, where they were interred in 
the graveyard of Christ's Church. There were appro- 
priate ceremonies in which many legal and patriotic so- 
cieties took part, as well as representatives of the national 





Benjamin Franklin 



Robert Morris 



Benjamin Rush 



The Signers of the Declaration 171 




James Wilson 



George ClyniL-r 



James Smith 





George Taylor 



John Morton 



George Ross 



government. (5) George Clymer was another delegate of 
sturdy patriotism, and so was (6) James Smith. The lat- 
ter was a man of genial disposition, keen sense of humor, 
and great benevolence. (7) George Taylor was an Irish- 
man, and came to this country to avoid studying medi- 
cine. He worked in a foundry, and after some years he 
became its proprietor. (8) John Morton was a boy who 
had but three months' schooling, but this was followed by 
such wide reading and study, under the supervision of his 
stepfather, that in time he became one of the judges of 
the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania. (9) George Ross, 
still another of the Pennsylvania signers, must have been 



172 The Colonists and the Revolution 

a model delegate, for his conduct in Congress was so 
highly approved by his constituents that they voted him 
more than six hundred dollars with which to purchase a 
piece of silver. But Ross was as modest as he was loyal, 
and he refused the gift. 



MASSACHUSETTS 

The five delegates from Massachusetts Bay formed a 
famous group, (i) Elbridge Gerry was in public life 
many years. From the time when he first took his seat in 
the General Court of Massachusetts Bay, at the age of 
twenty-nine, till, as Vice-President of the United States, 
under Madison, he died, at the age of seventy, the story 
of his life is the story of devotion to country. (2) Robert 
Treat Paine was born, so the chroniclers tell us, "of pious 
and respectable parents." He entered Harvard at the age 
,of fourteen, and on graduating he taught school for a time 
in order to earn enough money to study law, and in time 
he won distinction as an able lawyer. The careers of (3) 
John Adams and his kinsman, (4) Samuel Adams, cannot 
be summed up in a few words. John Adams was a man 
of marvelous industry, serving in Congress on no less than 
ninety different committees. He was twice Vice-President 
before filling the Presidential chair for one term ; and the 
closing years of his busy and useful life were brightened by 
watching the career of his son, John Quincy Adams, who, 
in time, also became President — a wonderful record only 
equaled by the Harrisons of Virginia. John Adams was 
Said to have " the clearest head and the firmest heart of 
any man in Congress." Samuel Adams embarked for 
^ time in commerce, but this proved as disastrous as his 



The Signers of the Declaration 173 

political life was brilliant. He made no secret of his wish 
for independence, and this so irritated Governor Gage 
that he issued his celebrated proclamation in which he 
promised pardon to all who would lay down their arms, 
** excepting only from the benefit of such pardon Samuel 
Adams and John Hancock." He held many honorable of- 
fices in the young State of Massachusetts, and in time he 
succeeded John Hancock as Governor. He died in his 
eighty-second year, a very poor man. In fact, he has 
been called " the poor gentleman." But now his country 
glories in his illustrious name and record. (5) John Han- 
cock was a born leader, and at the age of thirty-nine he was 
elected President of the immortal Second Continental Con- 





Eibridge Gerry 



Robert T. Paine 



John Adams 





1^ 




^ 

b 


^' 




Samuel Adams 



John Hancock 



174 The Colonists and the Revolution 

gress. Though a rich man, he was a sincere patriot, for 
when it was proposed to bombard Boston, he gave a prompt 
and hearty assent, though it would have caused his financial 
ruin. He loyally declared that his private fortune should 
on no occasion oppose an obstacle to the liberties of his 
country. Of all the signatures on the Declaration, we re- 
call Hancock's first; for he said, when he wrote his name, 
— -he wrote with unusual distinctness, — that "George HI 
might read it without spectacles." Hancock was Governor 
of Massachusetts for many years. 



VIRGINIA 

The Virginia signers all came of prominent families. 
( I ) Carter Braxton was educated at William and Mary 
College, and this was followed by a three years' sojourn 
abroad. On his return he was drawn into local politics, 
and for many years he was a notable figure in the history 
of his colony. (2) Benjamin Harrison entered public life 
while he was still a young man. Great Britain recognized 
his influence and sought to conciliate him, but his patriotism 
was sturdy and he was not to be bought over. In time 
he became Governor of Virginia, and a popular one he 
proved. (3) Thomas Nelson, Jr., was one of the richest 
men in Virginia, in those far-away days. Like Carter 
Braxton, he was born to wealth, and his education was 
completed in England. One incident of his life shows us 
how true a patriot he was, for when he was in command 
of the State militia at Yorktown it was thought that a de- 
cided advantage might be gained by bombarding his home. 
He at once directed the gunners to attack it, saying, " Spare 
no particle of my property so long as it affords comfort or 



The Signers of the Declaration 175 

shelter to the enemies of my country." In this he followed 
Hancock's unselfish example. The name of Lee has been 
an honored one in Virginia for many years. (4) Francis 
Lightfoot Lee was a close personal friend of Washington, 
and though he cared little for public life, he did not shirk 
its duties. For seven years he was a member of the House 
of Burgesses, and for four years a member of the Continen- 
tal Congress. In his own home he was always the charm- 
ing host, the bright and witty companion, the self-forgetting 
friend. His more brilliant brother, (5) Richard Henry 
Lee, was so gifted an orator that he w^as called " the Cicero 
of America." He was always eager for complete inde- 
pendence, and so it is not to be wondered at that it was this 
ardent patriot wdio was the first to propose that " these 
united colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and inde- 
pendent States." This was immediately seconded by that 
other ardent lover of liberty, John Adams. Jefferson al- 
ludes to Lee as '' eloquent, bold, and ever watchful at his 
post." (6) Chancellor George Wythe was a famous figure 
in the early history of Virginia. He was born to wealth, 
he was finely educated, and in time he won high distinction 
at the bar. But to-day he is recalled as the wise teacher of 
Thomas Jefferson. Both master and pupil signed the 
Great Document. 

In thinking of the Declaration, one name always stands 
out like a great mountain peak, towering above all others 
— the name of Thomas Jefferson; for it was this gifted 
man who drew^ up the document, and he did it with such 
skill that hardly a word of it was changed. As Richard 
Henry Lee was the first to make a motion suggesting in- 
dependence, it would have been the usual and courteous 
thing to make him chairman of the committee to draw up 




Carter Braxton 




Richard H. Lee 




Benjamin Harrison 




Thomas Jefferson 





Thomas Nelson 




Francis L. Lee 



George Wythe 



The Signers of the Declaration 177 

the document. But Lee was suddenly recalled to his Vir- 
ginia home, and so it seemed only fair to assign the delicate 
task to some other delegate from the same colony. Jefferson 
was no orator, but he had already earned an enviable repu- 
tation as a writer of important state documents. So to 
him was assigned the delicate but momentous task. How 
well he performed we may know from the fact that his 
four associates could suggest only a very few changes. 

Many of the signers reached high offices in the young 
republic. Many became governors of the new States, and 
two were elevated to the Presidency, Jefferson and John 
Adams. One truly remarkable fact may be recalled in 
connection with these two, namely, that both men died on 
the same day; and, w^hat was still more remarkable, they 
died just fifty years to a day after the united colonies w-ere 
declared independent, namely, on July 4, 1826. And 
when they passed away there was but one signer living, the 
venerable Charles Carroll of Carrollton, who survived 
Jefferson and Adams for six years, for he lived to be 
ninety-six years old. 

And who shall describe the actual signing of the Great 
Document ! We can imagine these fine and courtly gentle- 
men going, one by one, to the broad table which may be 
seen to-day in Independence Hall. William Ellery, one of 
the Rhode Island delegates, afterward declared: " I placed 
myself beside the Secretary and eyed each closely as he 
affixed his name to the document. Undaunted resolution 
w-as displayed in every countenance." It was, indeed, the 
proudest moment in the lives of these fearless men who, be- 
lieving in the righteousness of their cause, hazarded lives 
and fortunes in the great name of Liberty. 



178 The Colonists and the Revolution 



THE PORTRAITS OF THE 56 SIGNERS OF THE DECLARA- 
TION OF INDEPENDENCE 

(Arranged in alphabetical order. From the Emmet collection, New- 
York City) 

I, John Adams, 2. Samuel Adams. 3. Josiah Bartlett. 4. Carter 
Braxton. 5. Charles Carroll. 6. Samuel Chase. 7. Abraham Clark. 
8. George Clymer. 9. William Ellery. 10. William Floyd. 11. Benja- 
min Franklin. 12. Elbridge Gerry. 13. Button Gwinnett. 14. Lyman 
Hall. 15. John Hancock. 16. Benjamin Harrison. 17. John Hart. 
18. Joseph Hewes. 19. Thomas Heyward, Jr. 20. William Hooper. 
21. Stephen Hopkins. 22. Francis Hopkinson. 23, Samuel Huntington. 
24. Thomas Jefferson. 25. Francis Light foot Lee. 26. Richard Henry 
Lee. 27. Francis Lewis. 28. Philip Livingston. 29. Thomas Lynch, 
Jr. 30. Thomas McKean. 31. Arthur Middleton. Z'^. Lewis Morris. 
2iZ' Robert Morris. 34. John Morton. 35. Thomas Nelson, z^. Wil- 
liam Paca. 2>7- Robert Treat Paine. 38. John Penn. 39. George 
Read. 40. Caesar Rodney. 41. George Ross. 42. Benjamin Rush. 43. 
Edward Rutledge. 44. Roger Sherman. 45. James Smith. 46. Rich- 
ard Stockton. 47. Thomas Stone. 48. George Taylor. 49. Matthew 
Thornton. 50. George Walton. 51. William Whipple. 52. William 
Williams. 53. James Wilson. 54. John Witherspoon. 55. Oliver Wol- 
cott. 56. George Wythe. 



THE BATTLE OF PRINCETON (1777) 

From the Official Report 

By 

General George Washington 

I have the honor to inform you, that, since the date of 
my last from Trenton, I have removed with the army un- 
der my command to this place. The difficulty of crossing 
the Delaware, on account of the ice, made our passage over 
it tedious, and gave the enemy an opportunity of drawing 
in their several cantonments, and assembling their whole 
force at Princeton. Their large pickets advanced towards 
Trenton, their great preparations, and some intelligence I 
had received, added to their knowledge, that the ist of 
January brought on a dissolution of the best part of our 
army, gave me the strongest reasons to conclude, that an 
attack upon us was meditating. . . 

On the 2d [of January, 1777], according to my expecta- 
tion, the enemy began to advance upon us ; and, after some 
skirmishing, the head of their column reached Trenton 
about four o'clock, whilst their rear was as far back as 
Maidenhead. They attempted to pass Sanpink Creek, 
which runs through Trenton, at different places; but, find- 
ing the forts guarded, they halted, and kindled their fires. 
We were drawn up on the other side of the creek. In this 
situation we remained till dark, cannonading the enemy, 
and receiving the fire of their field-pieces, which did us 
but little damage. 

179 



l8o The Colonists and the Revolution 



Having by this time discovered, that the enemy were 
greatly superior in number, and that their design was to 
surround us, I ordered all our baggage to be removed 
silently to Burlington soon after dark; and at twelve o'clock 
after renewing our fires, and leaving guards at the bridge 
in Trenton, and other passes on the same stream above, 
marched by a roundabout road to Princeton, where I knew 
they could not have much force left, and might have stores. 
One thing I was certain of, that it would avoid the appear- 
ance of a retreat (which was of consecjuence, or to run 
the hazard of the whole army being cut off), whilst we 
might by a fortunate stroke withdraw General Howe from 
Trenton, and give some reputation to our arms. Happily 
we succeeded. We found Princeton about sunrise, with 
only three regiments and three troops of light-horse in it, 







Nassau Hall, Princeton University, a famous relic of the Revolution. 

two of which were on their march to Trenton. These 
three regiments, especially the two first, made a gallant 
resistance, and, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, must have 
lost five hundred men; upwards of one hundred of them 
were left dead on the field ; and, with what I have with me 



The Battle of Princeton (1777) 181 

and what were taken In the pursuit and carried across the 
Delaware, there are near three hundred prisoners, fourteen 
of whom are officers, all British. . . . 

. . . The militia are taking spirits, and, I am told, arc 
coming in fast from this State [New Jersey] ; but I fear 




House at Rocky Hill, from which Washington, in 1783, issued his 
** Farewell Orders." 



those from Philadelphia will scarcely submit to the hard- 
ships of a winter campaign much longer, especially as they 
very unluckily sent their blankets with their baggage to 
Burlington. I must do them the justice however to add, 
that they have undergone more fatigue and hardships, 
than I expected militia, especially citizens, would have done 
at this inclement season. I am just moving to Morristown, 
where I shall endeavor to put them under the best cover I 
can. Hitherto we have been without any; and many of 
our poor soldiers quite barefoot, and ill clad in other re- 
spects. ... 



i82 The Colonists and the Revolution 



NOTE 

Washington spent nearly three months near Princeton in 
the autumn of 1783, his residence being at a modest home 
above the hamlet of Rocky Hill. The house has been res- 
cued from decay, and is piously preserved as a colonial and 
revolutionary museum. Well it might be. Near the scene 
of his greatest strategic feat, perhaps while riding about 
the battle-field itself, he may have conceived the substance 
of what he embodied in his '' Farewell Orders to the Armies 
of the United States " and dated Rocky Hill, November 2, 
1783. n so, Princeton saw the double climax of his civil 
and military greatness. 

Nassau Hall is a historic building indeed. It had been 
the academy of Witherspoon's boys — Madison, Ellsworth, 
and the rest of them; Richard Stockton, from his near-by 
home, had haunted it; and Elias Boudinot, too. All these 
"high sons of liberty" had kindled revolutionary fires on 
its hearthstone. And then for a season it had been bar- 
racks and cavalry stables, too, until freed again for aca- 
demic use by the last struggle in the battle of Princeton, 
which w^as fought in its halls. Congress, fleeing from 
Philadelphia before the foolish mutineers marching from 
Lancaster, had now found a hospitable welcome in the col- 
lege chapel un4er its roof. They had brought Washington 
thither to deliberate on what is certainly the most solemn 
question which confronts a nation at the close of a war — 
namely, the dispersion of its armed force. They welcomed 
him in due form with the solemnity and dignity befitting 
such an occasion. The first duly accredited foreign minis- 
ter, the Dutch envoy, was there received, in recognition of 
independence not merely asserted, but won and acknowl- 



The Battle of Princeton (1777) 183 

edged. The General-in-chlef was a tired wayfarer on the 
mihtary road; he longed for the quiet waters and pleasant 
pastures of Mt. Vernon. The sober advice he gave in his 
" Farewell Orders " exhibits, above all other papers he 
ever wrote, the soundness and quality of his civic virtue. 
It is the compendium of a character which had exhibited a 
colossal grasp of the problems of peace as well as those of 
war, and which, in erecting a civil superstructure on the 
foundations laid in war, was yet to expand the principles 
of his orders into the broadest statesmanship. 




NATHAN HALE 
By Mary S. Northrop 

In City Hall Park, New York City, stands the bronze 
statue of a young man, the story of whose brief life thrills 
all patriotic hearts. 

The statue represents him pinioned, awaiting the gal- 
lows, as he uttered his last words. 

Americans unite in admiration of his noble character, 
pride in his self-forgetful heroism, and grief over his un- 
timely death. Every boy and girl in America should know 
by heart the life of Captain Nathan Hale. It is a story 
which every son and daughter of the great Republic should 
enshrine in their memories. 

In the darkest hour of our country's struggle for liberty, 
this self-devoted hero — inspired with fervid patriotism 
and eager to render service to his country — laid down his 
young' life, a sacrifice to the cause of American liberty. 

The days and weeks that followed that memorable Fourth 
of July in 1776 were dark indeed for the struggling colo- 
nists. 

Determined to crush with one effort the insurrection in 
her American colonies. Great Britain sent that summer a 
larger force than any which had before landed upon our 
shores. 

You know the story of the disastrous battle upon Long 
Island — where the few thousand ill-clothed, undisciplined 
provincial troops faced a splendidly equipped army, many 

184 



Nathan Hale 185 

regiments of which were veterans. The raw American 
troops, despite their courage and heroism, w^ere no match 
for the trained and skilled soldiery of Great Britain; and 
even General Washington, undemonstrative and reserved 
as he w^as, is said to have wrung his hands in anguish upon 
seeing his troops defeated and driven back, he being power- 
less to aid them. 

During the night of August 29, 1776, Washington es- 
caped wath the remainder of his little army across the 
East River. 

The troops were so greatly depressed by their defeat, 
and were in so alarming a state of gloom and despondency, 
that men deserted by the score. 

Washington sorely needed information of the strength 
and probable movements of the powerful enemy. He 







- w%^ ^ 




Birthplace of Nathan Hale, Coventry, Conn. 



l86 The Colonists and the Revolution 

deemed it necessary that some skilled soldier should go, as 
a spy, within the British lines, and procure for him the 
knowledge so much desired, that he might be " warned in 
ample time." 

He wrote to General Heath that '' everything depended 
upon obtaining intelligence of the enemy's motions," and 
he entreated him and General Clinton to " leave no stone 
unturned " to secure information. 

The commander-in-chief's desire became generally known 
among his officers, but so perilous was the service that for 
a time no one offered to undertake it. 

Captain Nathan Hale, a brilliant young officer belonging 
to " Knowlton's Rangers," calmly decided it was his duty 
to undertake the enterprise upon which the fate of the 
dejected little army seemed to depend. His friends sought 
him in vain to dissuade him from his purpose. " I desire 
to be useful," was his reply; his only thought seemed to be 
to serve his country. 

His fellow-officer and college friend, Captain William 
Hull, entreated him as a soldier not to run the risk of his 
military career by risking the ignominious death of a spy. 
Hale's reply to his friend's argument was that '' every 
kind of service necessary to the public good becomes honor- 
able by being necessary." 

The young officer presented himself to General Washing- 
ton as a volunteer for the dangerous service, was accepted, 
received his instructions, and disappeared from camp. 

He passed up the Connecticut shore, disguised himself as 
a schoolmaster, and landed upon Long Island. He visited 
all the British camps upon Long Island and in New York, 
and made drawings of the fortifications, writing his obser- 



Nathan Hale 187 

vations in Latin, and hiding them between the soles of his 
shoes. 

He had been about two wrecks within the British Hnes, 
had accompHshed his purpose, and was waiting upon the 
shore at Huntington, Long Island, for a boat that was to 
convey him to Connecticut, when he was captured — hav- 
ing been recognized a few hours previous by a Tory refugee. 
He was taken aboard a British man-of-war, and carried to 
Sir William Howe's headquarters in New York City. Here 
he was condemned to be executed at sunrise on the fol- 
low^ing morning. 

In what prison or guard-house the noble-souled young 
patriot spent that last sad night of his life is not known; 
but of the brutality with which he was treated by the 
provost marshal, into whose hands he was given over, 
there is abundant proof. His request for the attendance of 
a clergyman was refused. Even a Bible was denied him. 

During the preparations for the execution, an English 
officer obtained permission to offer the prisoner the seclusion 
of his tent, where writing materials w^ere furnished. 

But the farewell letters he wrote to his mother, to his 
sweetheart, and to a comrade in the army, were torn to 
shreds before his eyes by the cruel provost marshal. 

It was early dawn on Sunday morning, September 22^ 
1776, that our young hero was hurried away from the tent 
of the English officer to the gallows. The spot selected 
was the orchard of Colonel Henry Rutgers, on East Broad- 
way, not far above what is now Franklin Square. 

A crowd had gathered, many of whom afterward bore 
witness to the noble bearing of the young hero, and to 
the barbarity with which he was treated by the provost 



l88 The Colonists and the .Revolution 

marshal. This officer said : " The rebels shall never know 
they have a man who can die with such firmness." 

As Hale was about to ascend the fatal scaffold, he stood 
for a moment looking upon the detachment of British sol- 
diers, and the words that came from his loyal young heart 
in that supreme moment will never die : '' I only regret that 
I have but one life to lose for my country." 





^^^B^ 



The capture of Nathan Hah 



It is not known in what spot his body was laid, but the 
bones of the young patriot crumbled to dust in the heart 
of the great metropolis of the republic he helped to found. 

So long as love of country is cherished, and devotion to 
the cause of liberty is remembered, so long will the name 
of Nathan Hale shine with pure and undimmed luster. 

The birthplace of our hero is in the town of Coventry, 



Nathan Hale 189 

twenty miles east of Hartford in the State of Connecticut. 
Upon high ground, commanding a fine prospect, stands the 
laroe, old-fashioned farm-house where he was born. He 
was the sixth of twelve children: nine sons and three 
daughters. So delicate was he as an infant, it was feared 
he would not live; but when he became a lad, exercise in 
outdoor sports, of which he was very fond, gave strength 
and vigor to his body. 

As a boy he was famous for his athletic feats. It is said 
he excelled all his fellows in running, leaping, wrestling, 
playing ball, and shooting at a mark. When a student at 
Yale College he made a prodigious leap which w^as marked 
upon the Green in New Haven, and often pointed out long 
afterward. Colonel Green of New London, who knew him 
later when he was a schoolmaster in that town, speaking of 
Hale's agility, says : " He would put his hand on a fence 
as high as his head and clear it at a single bound ; he would 
jump from the bottom of one empty hogshead over and 
down into a second, and from the bottom of the second 
over and down into a third, and from the third over and 
out like a cat." 

He '' loved the gun and fishing-rod, and exhibited great 
ingenuity in fashioning juvenile implements of every sort." 
He used jokingly to boast to his sisters over their spinning- 
wheels, that he "could do anything but spin!" His 
bright mind was quick to apply what he learned. 

In those days high schools were unknown, and classical 
academies were confined to the large towns; so boys of 
the smaller towns who sought for a liberal education were 
prepared for college by the ministers, many of whom were 
accomplished scholars. 

Doctor Joseph Huntington, the minister of the parish in 



190 The Colonists and the Revolution 

which young Hale was born, " was considered in the 
churches a pattern of learning," and from him Nathan Hale 
and two brothers received their preparation for college — 
being intended by their father for the ministry. Enoch at 
sixteen years of age, and Nathan at fourteen, entered Yale 
College together, and were graduated in 1773. 

Doctor Eneas Munson of New Haven, says of Nathan 
Hale at this time : '* He was almost six feet in height, per- 
fectly proportioned, and in figure and deportment he was 
the most manly man I have ever met. His chest was broad ; 
his muscles firm; his face wore a most benign expression; 
his complexion was roseate; his eyes were light blue, and 
beamed with intelligence; his hair was soft and light brown 
in color ; and his speech was rather low, sweet, and musical. 
His personal beauty and grace of manner were most charm- 
ing. . . ." 

At his graduation, he took part in a Latin dispute fol- 
lowed by a debate upon the question, " Whether the edu- 
cation of daughters be not, without any just reason, more 
neglected than that of the sons." 

A classmate wrote of this debate : " Hale was triumphant. 
He was the champion of the daughters, and most nobly 
advocated their cause." 

The year after his graduation from college, he taught 
school in the town of East Haddam. 

When the news of the fight at Lexington rang through 
the colonies, Nathan Hale was master of the Union Gram- 
mar School in New London. A town meeting was at 
once called, at which the young schoolmaster made a stir- 
ring speech. *' Let us march immediately," said he, " and 
never lay down our arms until we have obtained our inde- 
pendence." 



Nathan Hale 



191 



The young teacher gathered his school-boys together, 
and, after giving them wise counsel, bade them an affec- 
tionate good-by, and hurried away w^ith the other recruits to 
Boston. 

He was soon made lieutenant in a company belonging 




The execution of the young patriot. 

to a regiment commanded by Colonel Webb, and the next 
year he was put in command of a company of a famous 
corps — Knowlton's Rangers, known as " Congress's Own." 
One of the last letters written by Captain Hale before 
starting upon his perilous mission w-as to his brother Enoch. 
These brothers w-ere very deeply attached to each other, and 
the grief of the young minister Enoch for his brother's 
tragic fate w^as most profound. It will bring the young 



192 The Colonists and the Revolution 

hero nearer to children of to-day, that Enoch's son, Nathan, 
was the father of the distinguished author of our time, 
Edward Everett Hale, and of Lucretia P. Hale, especially 
well known to many young people as the author of the 
*' Peterkin Papers." 

When Captain Hale departed on his fatal errand, he left 
his uniform and camp accoutrements in the care of Asher 
Wright, a townsman who acted in the capacity of a servant 
to the young officer. Some years after his discharge from 
the service, Asher Wright returned to his old home in 
Conventry, bearing the precious relics : the camp basket, 
the camp book, and the tenderly-cared- for uniform of the 
young officer. He lived to extreme old age, but to ■ his 
latest day he could not speak without tears of his young 
master. His grave is in the burial-ground at South Coven- 
try, within a few feet of those of the Hale family, and 
near the granite monument erected in 1846 to the memory 
of the " Martyr Spy " of the American Revolution. 

President Timothy Dwight of Yale College, grandfather 
of the present President of the University, was Nathan 
Hale's college tutor. He commemorated Hale's career in a 
poem, highly praising the character and qualities of his 
former student. 

Four years after the execution of Captain Hale, Major 
Andre was captured within the American lines ; it was Major 
Benjamin Tallmadge, a college classmate and dear friend 
of Nathan Hale's, who conducted Andre to Washington's 
headquarters ; and on the way thither Andre talked of 
Hale and his fate. 

La Fayette, in his memoirs, speaking of these two young 
officers, says : 



Nathan Hale 193 

" Captain Hale of Connecticut, a distinguished young man, 
beloved by his family and friends, had been taken on Long Island 
under circumstances of the same kind as those that occasioned the 
death of Major Andre; but instead of being treated with the like 
respect, to which Major Andre himself bore testimony. Captain 
Hale was insulted to the last moment of his life. ' This is a fine 
death for a soldier ! ' said one of the English officers who were 
surrounding the cart of execution. ' Sir,' replied Hale, lifting up 
his cap, * there is no death which would not be rendered noble 
in such a glorious cause ! ' " 

A fine bronze monument to the memory of Nathan Hale 
is in the vestibule of the State Capitol, Hartford, Connecti- 
cut. It was erected in 1887, a large sum of money being 
voted toward its cost by the State of Connecticut. It 
bears the inscription : 

CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE 

1776 

BORN AT COVENTRY 

June 6, 1755 

BURIED AT NEW YORK. 

Sept. 22, 1776 

*' I ONLY REGRET THAT I HAVE BUT ONE LIFE 
TO LOSE FOR MY COUNTRY." 

But it is most fitting that the latest monument to his 
memory should stand in the city of New York near the 
spot where he suffered death for his country. 



LA FAYETTE 
By Mrs. Eugenia M. Hodge 

One hundred and twenty-eight years ago, in the montli 
of February, 1777, a young Frencli guardsman ran away 
to sea. 

And a most singular running away it was. He did not 
wish to be a sailor, but he was so anxious to go that he 
bought a ship to run aw-ay in, — for he was a very w'ealthy 
young man; and though he was only nineteen, he held a 
commission as major-general in the armies of a land three 
thousand miles away — a land he had never seen and the 
language of which he could not speak. The King of 
France commanded him to remain at home ; his friends and 
relatives tried to restrain him ; and even the representatives, 
or agents, of the country in defense of which he desired to 
fight would not encourage his purpose. And w^hen the 
young man, while dining at the house of the British Am- 
bassador to France, openly avowed his sympathy with a 
dow'Utrodden people, and his determination to help them 
gain their freedom, the Ambassador acted quickly. At his 
request, the rash young enthusiast w^as arrested by the 
French Government, and orders were given to seize his 
ship, which was aw^aiting him at Bordeaux. But ship and 
ow'Uer both slipped aw^ay, and sailing from the port of 
Pasajes in Spain, the runaw^ay, with eleven chosen com- 
panions, was soon on the sea, bound for America, and be- 
yond the reach of both friends and foes. 

194 



La Fayette 



195 



On April 25, 1777, he landed at the little port of George- 
town, at the mouth of the Great Pee Dee River in South 
Carolina; and from that day forward the career of Marie 
Jean Paul Roch Yves Gilbert 
Motier, Marquis de La Fay- 
ette, has held a place in the 
history of America, and in 
the interest and affection of 
the American people. 

When he first arrived in 
the land for which he desired 
to fight, however, he found 
but a cool reception. The 
Congress of the United States 
was poor, and so many good 
and brave American officers 
who had proved their worth 
were desirous of commissions 
as major-generals, that the 
commission promised to this 
young Frenchman could not 
easily be put in force so far 
as an actual command and a 
salary were concerned. 

But the young general had come across the sea for a 
purpose, and money and position were not parts of that 
purpose. He expressed his desire to serve in the American 
army upon two very singular conditions, namely; that he 
should receive no pay, and that he should act as a volunteer. 
The Congress was so impressed with the enthusiasm and 
self-sacrifice of the young Frenchman that, on July 31, 
1777, it passed a resolution directing that *' his services be 




Statue of La Fayette, by A. Bar- 
tholdi, Union Square, New- 
York City. 



196 The Colonists and the Revolution 

accepted and that, in consideration of his zeal, illustrious 
family and connections, he have the rank and commission 
of a Major-General of the United States." 

George Washington was greatly attracted by the energy 
and earnestness of the young nobleman. He took him into 
what was called his " military family," assigned him to 
special and honorable duty; and when the young volunteer 
was wounded at the battle of Brandy wine, the Commander- 
in-Chief praised his " bravery and military ardor " so highly 
that the Congress gave La Fayette the command of a divi- 
sion. Thus, before he was twenty, he was actually a gen- 
eral, and already, as one historian says, he had " justified 
the boyish rashness wdiich his friends deplored and his 
sovereign resented, and had acquired a place in history." 

Notwithstanding General Washington's assertion to 
Congress that La Fayette had made " great proficiency in 
our language," the young marquis's pronunciation of Eng- 
lish was far from perfect. French, Spanish, and Italian 
were all familiar to him, but his English was not readily 
understood by the men he was called upon to command. 
It was therefore necessary to find as his aide-de-camp one 
who could quickly interpret the orders of his command- 
ing oflicer. 

Such an aid was at last found in the person of a certain 
young Connecticut adjutant on the regimental stafT of 
dashing Brigadier-General Wayne, — " Mad Anthony " 
Wayne, the hero of Stony Point. 

This young adjutant was of almost the same age as La 
Fayette; he had received, what was rare enough in those 
days, an excellent college education, and he was said to be 
the only man in the American army who could speak 
French and English equally well. 



La Fayette 197 

These young men, General La Fayette and his aid, grew 
very fond of each other during an intimate acquaintance of 
nearly seveij years. The French marquis, with that over- 
flow of spirits and outward demonstration so noticeable in 
most Frenchmen, freely showed his affection for the more 
reserved American — often throwing his arms around his 
neck, kissing him upon the cheek and calling him " My 
brave, my good, my virtuous, my adopted brother ! " 

After the battle of Monmouth, which occurred on June 
28, 1778, and in which La Fayette's command was engaged 
against the British forces, who were routed, the marquis 
was enthusiastic in praise of the gallant conduct of his 
friend and aid. Not content with this, he sent to him some 
years after, when the aid-de-camp, then a colonel in rank, 
was elected to political honors, the following acrostic, as a 
souvenir, expressive of the esteem and remembrance of his 
former commander. The initial letters of each line of the 
poem will spell out for you the name of this soldier friend 
of La Fayette. And here is an exact copy of the acrostic 
and of the postscript that accompanied it : 

Sage of the East ! where wisdom rears her head, 
Augustus, taught in virtue's path to tread, 
'Mid thousands of his race, elected stands 
Unanimous to legislative bands ; 
Endowed with every art to frame just laws, 
Learns to hate vice, to virtue gives applause. 

Augustus, oh, thy name that's ever dear 
Unrivaled stands to crown each passing year ! 
Great are the virtues that exalt thy mind. 
Unenvied merit marks thy worth refined. 
Sincerely rigid for your country's right. 
To save her Liberty you deigned to fight; 



198 The Colonists and the Revolution 

Undaunted courage graced your manly brow, 
Secured such honors as the gods endow. — 

Bright is the page; the record of thy days 
Attracts my muse thus to rehearse thy praise. 
Rejoice then, patriots, statesmen, all rejoice ! 
Kindle his praises with one general voice ! 
Emblazon out his deeds, his virtues prize. 
Reiterate his praises to the skies ! 

M. D. La Fayette. 

P.S. — The Colonel will readily apologize for the inaccuracies 
of an unskillful muse, and be convinced the high estimation of his 
amiable character could alone actuate the author of the foregoing. 

M. D. La Fayette. 



So the name of the young general's friend and aide-de- 
camp was Samuel Augustus Barker. 

Years passed. The Revolution was over. America was 
free. The French Revolution, with all its horrors and suc- 
cesses, had made France a republic. Napoleon had risen, 
conquered, ruled, fallen, and died, and the first quarter of 
the nineteenth century was nearly completed, when, in 
August, 1824, an old French gentleman who had been an 
active participant in several of these historic scenes arrived 
in New York. It was General the Marquis de La Fayette, 
now a veteran of nearly seventy, returning to America as 
the honored guest of the growing and prosperous republic 
he had helped to found. 

His journey through the land was like a triumph. Flow- 
ers and decorations brightened his path, cheering people 
and booming cannon welcomed his approach. And in one 
of those welcomings, in a little village in central New 
York, a cannon, which was heavily loaded for a salute in 



La Fayette 199 

honor of the nation's guest, exploded, and killed a plucky 
young fellow who had volunteered to '' touch off " the 
overcharged gun when no one else dared. Some months 
after, the old marquis chanced to hear of the tragedy, and 
at once his sympathies were aroused for the widowed 
mother of the young man. 

He at once wrote to the son of the man who had been 
his comrade in arms in the Revolutionary days half a cen- 
tury before, asking full information concerning the fatal 
accident, and the needs of the mother of the poor young 
man who was 'killed; and having thus learned all the facts, 
sent the sum of one thousand dollars to relieve the mother's 
necessities and to pay off the mortgage on her little home. 

I have before me, as I write, the original letter written 
by the General to the son of his olcl friend, the paper 
marked and yellow with the creases of many years; and, 
as I read it again, I feel that of all the incidents of the 
singularly eventful life of La Fayette there are none that 
show his noble nature more fully than those I have noted 
here: his enthusiastic services in behalf of an oppressed; 
people, his close and devoted affection for his friend and 
comrade, and the impulsive generosity of a heart that was 
at once manly, tender, and true. 

And as I write, I am grateful that I can claim a certain 
association with that honored name of La Fayette; for the 
young adjutant to whom the acrostic was addressed and the 
friend through whom the gift to the widow was communi- 
cated were respectively my grandfather and my father. 

It is at least pleasant to know that one's ancestors were 
the intimate friends of so noble a man, of whom one 
biographer has recently said : " He was brave even to rash- 
ness, his life was one of constant peril, and yet he never 



200 The Colonists and the Revolution 



shrank from any danger or responsibility if he saw the 
way open to spare hfe or suffering, to protect the defense- 
less, to sustain law and preserve order." 

At the southern extremity of Union Square, in the city 
of New York, there is a bronze statue of La Fayette. It 
represents him in graceful pose and with earnest face and 
gesture, " making offer of his sword to the country he ad- 
mired — the country that sorely needed his aid. The left 
hand is extended as if in greeting and friendly self-sur- 
render, and the right 
hand, which holds 
the sword, is pressed 
against the breast, 
as if implying that 
his whole heart goes 
with his sword." 
La Fayette's words, 
'' As soon as I heard 
of American inde- 
pendence, my heart 
was enlisted," are 
inscribed upon the 
pedestal of the 
statue; and a short 
distance from it, in 
the plaza adjoining 
the square, is an 
equestrian statue of 
Washington. It is 




The statue of La Fayette given to the 
French people by American school-chil- 
dren, courtyard of the Louvre, Paris, 
France. 



fitting that the bronze image of those two great men should 
thus be placed together, as the names of Washington and 
La Fayette are coupled in the affections of the people. 



BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 

Being an account of our first envoy to the Court 
of France, 1776-1785 

By H. a. Ogden 

When Dr. Benjamin Franklin stood before the monarch 
of France in 1778, it must have seemed to him the exact 
fulfihuent of a prophecy; for it is said that, when a poor 
little boy, his father used to repeat to him Solomon's prov- 
erb : " Seest thou a man diligent in his business ? he shall 
stand before kings." 

Of course, like most remarkable events that happen in 
this world, it seemed to come about very naturally. After 
the signing of the Declaration of Independence, that first 
great step toward making us a free people, Congress de- 
cided to send a special envoy to the French court, in order 
to enlist their aid in our struggle for freedom. 

Their choice fell on their ablest and most patriotic mem- 
ber — ^upon him who had been one of the originators of 
the Declaration, and who, on signing his name, made the 
witty remark : " Now, gentlemen, we must hang together, if 
we would not hang separately." 

On October 26, 1776, with his two grandsons, William 
Temple Franklin, a youth of seventeen, and little Benjamin 
Franklin Bache, his daughter's boy, of seven, the old 
Doctor set sail in the sloop-of-war Reprisal, one of the 
swiftest craft of our infant navy. 

201 



202 The Colonists and the Revolution 

He was then over seventy years of age, and his fame as 
a printer, editor, inventor, philosopher, and statesman ( for 
the old gentleman was a many-sided genius) was well es- 
tablished. The learned societies of the civilized globe were 
proud to enroll his name among their members ; the French 
people, from the nobles down to the servants, all were 
familiar with his quaint and witty sayings, as translated 
from '' Poor Richard's Almanac," as well as with his love 
of liberty and his broad sympathy with his fellow-men. 
Silas Deane, the agent of the American Congress, then 
living in Paris, afterward said, *' Here is the hero, philoso- 
pher, and patriot who, at the age of seventy- four, risks all 
dangers for his country." 

To show that the enemy fully realized his power as an 
advocate for the cause of independence, the Marquis of 
Rockingham, one of King George the Third's advisers, re- 
marked that he considered '' the presence of Dr. Franklin 
at the French court more than a balance for the few ad- 
ditional acres which the English had gained by the con- 
quest of Manhattan Island." This was said not long after 
the battle of Brooklyn, whereby General Howe had se- 
cured possession of New York. 

Shortly after his arrival in Paris, the Doctor was in- 
vited to make his home at Passy, then one of the little 
towns outside of the city, although now it is inside of the 
fortifications. Here, on a hill overlooking the river Seine 
as it flows past villages, chateaux, and palaces, stood the 
Mansion Valentinois, the owner of which insisted on 
Franklin's sharing his apartments with him without cost, 
saying, "If your country is successful in the war, and your 
Congress will grant me a small piece of land, perhaps I may 
take that as payment." Wherever the Doctor went, crowds 



Benjamin Franklin 203 

followed him ; he was cheered in the streets or at the opera ; 
his sayings were quoted; and engravings, miniatures, 
medals, snuff-box lids, and souvenirs were made to bear his 
kindly features. He wrote home to little Benjamin's 
mother that they had '' made her father's face " — by which, 
of course, he meant his own — '' as well known as that of 
the moon." 

He always dressed plainly; and his hair, which was 
gray and quite thin, was not concealed by a wig, though 
he often wore a fur cap, pulled down nearly to his spectacle- 
rims. 

Ignorant people whispered that h*e was a wizard, en- 
gaged in separating the colonies from England by means of 
his magic spells. All showed their admiration of his at- 
tainments; but amid all of the compliments paid him and 
the extravagant attentions he received, he remained the 
simple-minded, plain republican, ever keeping in mind his 
country's trials and her need. 

The court of France, while friendly and willing to aid us 
as it could, was not as yet ready to acknowledge our inde- 
pendence, and by so doing to provoke a conflict with Great 
Britain. The war, thus far, had gone against us; news of 
the one bright ray in the gloom — Washington's victory at 
Trenton — had taken five months to reach France, so diffi- 
cult was it to escape from the British cruisers watching our 
coasts. 

Some muskets and a private loan of $400,000 were se- 
cured, and single volunteers were plenty. To fight for 
America became with the young French nobles what now- 
adays we should call a " fad." Franklin was besieged by 
requests to be officers in our army, or for letters of recom- 
mendation to Congress, and he was at his wits' end to re- 



204 The Colonists and the Revolution 

fuse with kindness, so that he should not make promises of 
rank that he could not fulfil. 

During this winter of darkness for freedom's cause, 
Franklin must play his part in the gay world of Paris. 




Franklin and his young relatives in the streets of Pans. 

To make friends for our country was his constant aim ; her 
enemies he defied, and everywhere he expressed his cer- 
tainty of the final triumph of America in the struggle. 

We have all heard of the phrase, " These are the times 
that try men's souls." These words were used at just this 
time by Thomas Paine, who wrote a series of articles on the 



Benjamin Franklin 205 

American war. For, while it was dark indeed on our side 
of the ocean, it seemed also as if no nation abroad would 
help us. Franklin sent his associates, Lee and Deane, to 
the courts of Spain and Prussia for aid, but neither was 
disposed to take the first step. 

Diplomacy among nations is often a tedious and selfish 
proceeding. Meanwhile the Doctor did what he could to- 
ward arming ships and making easier the lot of prisoners 
of war abroad. As to the ships, he was somewhat success- 
ful, and was gratified by his success; for he was eager to 
give England some of the treatment the colonies had re- 
ceived from her men-of-war. 

All of these matters kept the envoy very busy — so 
much so, that his grandson Temple was obliged to act as 
his secretary, and the idea of his going to a university was 
given up. At last came the sunshine through the clouds, 
for the wise Providence that guides the affairs of nations 
as well as of men brought about the surrender of Burgoyne 
and his army in October, 1777, after the battle of Saratoga. 

The news was despatched with all haste to our represen- 
tatives abroad. Massachusetts sent the glad tidings by 
special messenger, a young Mr. Austin. Before his depar- 
ture, a prayer was ofifered from the pulpit of a church in 
Boston — the minister, it is said, being so absorbed in pray- 
ing especially that the despatches might be delivered that he 
made no mention of the messenger! 

In a little over a month, however, both messenger and 
packet arrived in Paris, and the scene when he drove into 
the courtyard of the Hotel Valentinois was a memorable 
one. 

Our representatives had received word of his landing, 
but knew nothing of the nature of his news. As the chaise 



2o6 The Colonists and the Revolution 

dashed up to the group around the door, and the messenger 
ahghted, Dr. Frankhn grasped his hand, exclaiming : 

"Sir, is Philadelphia taken?" 

" Yes, sir," was Austin's reply. 

Then the old statesman wrung his hands in disappoint- 
ment and had begun to return in sadness to the house when 
the messenger cried : 

" But, sir, I have greater news than Ihat! General Bur- 
goyne and his whole army are prisoners of war! " 

Temple carried the news to the French prime minister, the 
Comte de Vergennes, and a few days later a private inter- 
view took place at Versailles. 

About a year from the landing of Franklin on the coast 
of France, his errand to that nation was accomplished. She 
became the ally of the American colonies, and thus was the 
first to welcome the United States into the circle of nations. 

A main condition of the treaty was that we should not 
make peace with Great Britain unless our independence was 
recognized — a condition to which our representatives 
gladly agreed. 

Our new ally's first act was to send a frigate carrying M. 
Gerard, a special envoy to Congress, with tidings of the 
treaty. He was received with great honor, and joy filled 
all patriot hearts. On February 6, 1778, the treaty was 
officially signed by Benjamin Franklin, Silas Deane, and 
Arthur Lee, on the part of the United States. The signing 
was followed by the important ceremony of being received 
by the King in person. As no one in those days ever 
thought of being presented to a monarch of France with his 
head uncovered by a wig, Dr. Franklin ordered one for the 
occasion. The hair-dresser, or pcrruquier, as he was called, 
brought the all-important article, and proceeded to try it on; 



Benjamin Franklin 207 

but try as he would, he could n't force it down over Frank- 
lin's head. After several trials, the Doctor said : 

'' Perhaps it is too small ! " Dashing the wig to the floor 
in a rage, the perruquicr cried, " It is impossible, monsieur ! 
No, monsieur! it is not that the wig is too small; it is that 
your head is too large ! " 

As there was no time to remedy the misfit, the Doctor 
decided to go before the King without a wig. Therefore 
it was without a wig, or even a sword, — considered an in- 
dispensable article of a gentleman's dress in those days, — 
but in a plain black velvet suit, with ruflles at the neck and 
wrists, white silk stockings, and silver-buckled shoes, that 
our great republican drove to the palace of Versailles. On 
the morning of the 20th of March, 1778, accompanied by 
his fellow-envoys Dr. Franklin was usli^red into the pres- 
ence of his majesty King Louis XVI of France. After the 
formal introduction, the monarch expressed himself as well 
disposed toward his new ally, and gracefully complimented 
the tact that Franklin had displayed during his sojourn in 
the capital and among the French people. 

In the evening, during the games that the court were en- 
gaged in, the Queen, Marie Antoinette, conversed with 
Franklin in her own charming and gracious manner. His 
wit, fascinating conversation, and sound common sense at- 
tracted the admiration of the gay and frivolous court, and 
he was lionized by all. 

At a brilliant fete given in his honor, he was crowned 
with laurel by one of three hundred young ladies. The old 
statesman accepted all these attentions modestly, considering 
them as offered, through him, to his native land. 

During the rest of his visit to France, Franklin's life was 
filled with solicitude for his native land ; but now, bv the 



2o8 The Colonists and the Revolution 

authority of the French king, armies and fleets were sent, 
by the help of which we were finally able to capture Corn- 
wallis and secure our independence. 

At length, wxary and ill, Franklin asked for his recall; 
he had signed the treaty of peace with England, thus crown- 
ing his mission with success. So in March, 1785, after 
nearly nine years' residence abroad. Congress was pleased to 
declare that " the Honorable Benjamin Franklin, Esquire, 
was permitted to return to America." 



PAUL JONES 
By Molly Elliot Seawell 

" Traitor, if you will, was Monsieur John Paul Jones, aft- 
erward Knight of His Most Christian Majesty's Order of 
Merit — but a braver traitor never wore sword." 

Such were almost the last words traced by the hand of 
Thackeray, and they show the astonishing misconception of 
Paul Jones which prevailed in the mind of one of the justest 
men that ever lived. Washington was a hero even to his 
enemies ; yet Washington had actually held a commission in 
the British army, while Paul Jones could say proudly to 
the American Congress at the close of the war: "I have 
never borne arms under any but the American flag, nor 
have I ever borne or acted under any commission but that 
of the Congress of America." This singular distinction 
against Paul Jones extended to tne whole of the feeble naval 
force of the colonies. Soldiers were treated from the be- 
ginning as prisoners of w^ar, while until Paul Jones forced 
an exchange of prisoners upon equal terms, American sailors 
were formally declared to be " traitors, pirates and felons." 

Let this " traitor, pirate and felon " enumerate his services 
in his own words : 

In 1775 J. Paul Jones armed and embarked in the first American 
ship of war. In the Revolution he had twenty-three battles and 
solemn rencountres by sea ; made seven descents in Britain and 
her Colonies ; took of her navy two ships of equal and two of 
far superior force, many store ships and others ; constrained her 
14 209 



210 The Colonists and the Revolution 

to fortify her ports; suffer the Irish volunteers; desist from her 
cruel burnings in America, and exchange as prisoners of war, the 
American citizens taken on the ocean, and cast into prisons in 
England as traitors, pirates and felons ! 

In his perilous situation in Holland his conduct drew the Dutch 
into the war, and eventually abridged the Revolution. Congress 
bestowed on him the following honors: The thanks of the United 
States, April 14, 1781 ; election as first officer of the navy, June 
26, 1781 ; a gold medal October 16, 1787. This last favor was 
granted to only six officers: ist, General Washington, the com- 
mander-in-chief, for the taking of Boston. 2nd, General Gates, 
for taking the army of Burgoyne. 3rd, General Wayne, for tak- 
ing Rocky Point, of which the garrison was much stronger than 
the assailants. 4th, General Morgan, for having cut down and 
destroyed eleven hundred officers and soldiers of the best troops 
of England, with nine hundred men, solely militia. 5th, Gen- 
eral Green, for having gained a decisive victory over the enemy 
at Eutaw Springs. 

But all these medals, although well merited, were given in mo- 
ments of enthusiasm. He had the satisfaction solely to receive 
the same honor, by the unanimous voice of the United States 
assembled in Congress, the i6th of October, 1787, in memory of 
services which he had rendered eight years before. 

Besides Thackeray in England, Cooper in America and 
Halevy and Dumas in France have taken Paul Jones as a 
hero of splendid romance. He was a true as well as a ro- 
mantic hero, however. If Washington, Franklin, Jefiferson, 
La Fayette, Adams, and Morris are to be believed, he was a 
man of lofty character and true patriotism. 

The two war-ships taken by Paul Jones were scarcely 
felt by mighty England, with her six hundred fighting ships. 
But the wound to the honor of the greatest and proudest of 
nations was deeply felt, and was earnestly sought to be 
avenged. In a feeble ship he twice cruised up and down 
the narrow seas of the greatest naval power on earth, rais- 



Paul Jones 



211 



ing her coasts as had not been done since the days of the 
Spanish Armada, threatening her northern capital, landing 
whenever and wherever he liked, burning her shipping, and 
capturing the only two war-ships that came within hail of 
him — ships manned by the hardy sailors of the Mistress of 
the Seas. Until then England had made good her proud 
boast : 

And not a sail but by permission spreads. 



After Paul Jones hoisted his flag this boast was no 
longer good. 

In his twenty-seventh year a great and fortunate change 
occurred to him. His brother William, who had emigrated 
to Virginia and died there, left him an estate. There is no 
doubt that Paul Jones was often afterward in want of 




The Bonhommc Richard and the Serapis. 



212 The Colonists and the Revolution 




ready money; but it must be remembered that everybody 
was in want of ready money in the eighteenth century. 

Certain it is, from his papers 
preserved at Washington, that 
he might be considered at the 
beginning of the war a man of 
independent fortune. 

On December 22, 1775, was 
made the beginning of the 
American navy; and from this 
point the true history of Paul 
Jones begins. He was then 
twenty-eight years old, of the 
middle height, his figure slight, 
but graceful, and of '' a dash- 
ing and officer-hke appear- 
|ance." His complexion was dark and weather-beaten; 
his black eyes very expressive, but melancholy. 

His first duty was as first lieutenant of the Alfred, Com- 
modore Hopkins's flag-ship. On this vessel he hoisted for 
the first time the original flag of the Revolution — the rat- 
tlesnake flag. In a letter to Robert Morris in 1783, Paul 
Jones says : 

It was my fortune, as the Senior of the First Lieutenants, to 
hoist, myself, the Flag of America (I Choose to do it with my 
own Hands) the first time it was displayed. Though this was 
but a light circumstance, yet, I feel for it's Honor more than I 
think I should have felt had it not so happened. 

There was great confusion in the tables of rank first 
adopted in the navy, and thence proceeded a grievance that 
Paul Jones never ceased to protest against bitterly, until in 
1 78 1, many years afterward, he became, by the unanimous 



Paul Jones 213 

election of Congress, the ranking officer of the American 
navy. 

As Paul Jones had been the first to raise the original flag 
of the Revolution, so he v^as the first to raise the Stars 
and Stripes over a ship of war — the Ranger. This 
occurred at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, in the autumn 
of 1777. 

On November 14 he sailed for France, being recom- 
mended to the American commissioners at Paris by the 
Marine Committee as " an active and brave commander in 
our service." 

From the beginning of his acquaintance with Franklin a 
mutual respect and a deep affection sprung up between them. 
The wise Franklin saw at a glance what manner of man 
Paul Jones was, and in one noble sentence described him 
better than many volumes could : " For Captain Paul Jones 
ever loved close fighting." 

Paul Jones foresaw the use of torpedoes, and experi- 
mented boldly w^ith very primitive ones. He understood as 
fully as a great contemporary writer the '' influence of sea 
power upon history," and wrote, a century and a quarter 
ago : '' In time of Peace, it is necessary to prepare, and 
to he akvays prepared for War by Sea." He advocated the 
establishment of a naval academy, and a supplementary 
course for officers closely resembling the Naval War Col- 
lege, and advocated the constant study and practice of fleet 
evolutions. This was in the days when Britannia ruled the 
waves with a vengeance, but without " tactic." In his ad- 
miration for this fascinating part of his profession, Paul 
Jones certainly underrated the British; but when he came 
to fight them, he showed them, in his preparations, every 
mark of respect. 



214 I'he Colonists and the Revolution 

There exists, in his own handwriting, a complete Hst 
of every ship of every kind in the British navy, when bnilt, 
where built, and by whom built, with the names, rates, 
dimensions, men, guns, and draft of water; also the num- 
ber of boats of every kind attached to them. It is sup- 
posed he had secret correspondence with some person high 
in the British admiralty to have secured this. 

Paul Jones spent some weary months at Brest In a vain 
effort to get a better ship than the Ranger. He improved 
her very much, for his practical knowledge of ships was 
great; but still, as he wrote Franklin, " the Ranger is crank, 
sails slow and is of trifling force." Nothing better w^as 
to be had for him, and many years after he wrote: '^ Will 
posterity believe that the Sloop of war Ranger was the best 
I was ever enabled by my country to bring into active 
service? " 

Having determined to traverse the British seas in his lit- 
tle vessel, w^hile d'Orvilliers, with his huge fleet, stayed at 
home and evolved tactics, Paul Jones was offered a cap- 
tain's commission in the French navy, the alliance between 
France and the United States being then consummated. 
This he promptly declined; and on an April evening he 
picked up his anchor and steered straight for the Irish Sea. 
He had lost many of his crew by desertions, and the ship 
was worse manned and no better officered than when he 
left America. 

Then began a long series of promises and disappointments 
about ships and prize-money. The last was of great conse- 
quence, as without it it was almost impossible to get a 
crew. The French court made much of Paul Jones, and 
the Due de Chartres, the Prince of Nassau, and others 
with high-sounding names, were eager to enlist with him. 



Paul Jones 215 

especially La Fayette, who became very intimate with him. 
But no ship was forthcoming. Franklin had the good will, 
but no money. Paul Jones wrote letters to everybody in 
power at Paris, even the king himself, begging for any 
sort of a ship. At last — it is said taking Franklin's ad- 
vice in " Poor Richard's Almanac " : ''If you would have 
your business done, go. If not, send " — he went to Paris, 
and the result was that he was put in command of the most 
extraordinary squadron ever seen, under the most extra- 
ordinary circumstances ever known. His flag-ship, which 
he named the Bon Hoininc Richard out of compliment to 
Franklin, was an old Indiaman so much decayed that it 
was impossible to make any alterations in her. She was 
mounted with forty guns, mostly old and defective, and had 
a motley crew of all the nations on the earth, many of them 
raw peasants, and about thirty Americans whom Paul Jones 
utilized as petty officers. 

Many persons had difficulty in persuading themselves 
that the mysterious vessel which was seen cruising about 
was really the American ship. A member of Parliament 
who lived on the Scotch coast sent out to the Bon Honiinc 
Richard — supposing it to be a British cruiser, for British 
colors were usually worn — asking for some powder and 
shot to defend himself against an attack by Paul Jones. A 
barrel of powder was sent him, with a civil message re- 
gretting that the supposed British cruiser had no suitable 
shot ! Another day a pilot was enticed on board, and per- 
suaded to give the private signals. Meanwhile the time for 
the cruise to be up was fast approaching, and it may be well 
imagined that Paul Jones suffered anguish at the idea of 
returning to France without having exchanged a shot w^ith 
the enemy. Such, however, was not to be his fate. At 



2i6 The Colonists and the Revolution 



noon on September 23, 1779, he sighted the first ship of the 
Baltic fleet coming around Flamborough Head, and be- 
fore midnight he had fought the most extraordinary and 
the most heroic single-ship fight recorded in history. 

The fleet of forty ships was convoyed by the Serapis, 
Captain Pearson, and the sloop of war Countess of Scar- 
borough, Captain Piercy. The Serapis was a splendid frig- 
ate, lately off the stocks, and 
carrying fifty guns — '' the 
finest ship of her class I ever 
saw," Paul Jones wrote to 
Franklin. She carried a crew 
of four hundred, chiefly picked 
seamen. Paul Jones had ac- 
tually on board about three 
hundred and forty men, and 
only one sea lieutenant — 
Dale. His crew had been de- 
creased by sending prize crews 
away; while one of his lieu- 
tenants, with sixteen men, had 
been captured, and another during the battle was absent 
from the ship on a boat expedition. The weight of the 
Serapis s broadside was 576; of the Bon Homme Richard's, 
390. But the Bon Homme Richard fired only two broad- 
sides when two of the old guns constituting her main-deck 
battery burst, and the rest cracked and became useless. 

The Serapis and the Bon Homme Richard both cleared 
for action about one o'clock. Each captain knew whom he 
was fighting. The Serapis manceuvered to get the Bon 
Homme Richard under the sruns of Scarborough Castle, 




Captain Paul Jones. 

From an old print 



Paul Jones 217 

but Paul Jones outmanoeuvered him. Meanwhile the 
P atlas alone obeyed the order given the rest of the fleet, 
and eventually captured the Countess of Scarborough very 
handsomely. The Vengeance never came into action at all, 
and the Alliance, out of gunshot, reconnoitered cautiously. 
As the Pallas passed. Captain Landais shouted that if the 
frigate should prove to be the Serapis, all they had to do 
was to run away ! 

There seems to have been a good deal of indiscriminate 
hailing going on while the ships were approaching each 
other. The first hail from the Serapis, '' What ship is 
that ? " was answered, " Come a little nearer and we'll tell 
you." The Serapis people called derisively, " What are 
you laden with? " to which the Americans shouted, " Round, 
grape, and double-headed shot ! " 

With the best disposition to fight in the world, the two 
ships did not come to close quarters until seven in the even- 
ing. The Bon Homme Richard fired the first broadside, 
which was promptly returned. Of what followed Paul 
Jones himself, in his official report, tells the story better 
than anybody else. 

The battle being thus begun Was Continued with unremitting 
fury. Every method was practised on both sides to gain an ad- 
vantage and rake each other ; and I must confess that the Enemie's 
ship being much more manageable than the B. h. R. gained thereby 
Several times an advantageous Situation in Spite of my best en- 
deavors to prevent it, as I had to deal with an Enemy of greatly 
superior force I was under the necessity of Closing with him to 
prevent the advantage which he had over me in point of manoeuvre. 
It was my intention to lay the B. h. R. athwart the Enemie's bow, 
but as that operation required great dexterity in the management 
of both Sails, and helm and Some of our braces being shot away, 



2i8 The Colonists and the Revolution 

it did not exactly succeed to my Wishes. The Enemie's bowsprit 
came over the B. h. R's. poop by the mizenmast and I made both 
ships fast together. 

Here the Enemy attempted to board the Bon Homme 
Richard, but was deterred from it on finding Captain 
Jones with a pike in his hand at the gangway. They im- 
agined he had, as they said, '' A Large Corps de Reserve/' 
which was a fortunate mistake, as no man took up a pike 
but himself. 

Naval experts have agreed that there were no new prin- 
ciples evolved, and no extraordinary tactics shown, in this 
remarkable fight. But it stands alone among sea fights in 
that the ship which finally forced a surrender might have 
been considered a beaten ship from the beginning. There 
was not a moment, after the second broadside, that the Bon 
Homme Richard was not technically whipped. But her 
captain w^as luiconquerable, and by an unexampled tenacity 
and courage forced the surrender of a good ship to the 
shattered, disarmed, and burning shell of the Bon Homme 
Richard. 

Franklin wrote a very beautiful letter to Paul Jones, in 
which he said : 

For some Days after the Arrival of your Express, nothing was 
talked of at Paris and Versailles, but your cool Conduct and per- 
severing Bravery during that terrible conflict. You may believe 
the Impression on my mind was not less strong than that of 
others, but I do not chuse to say in a Letter to yourself, all I 
think on such an occasion. ... I am uneasy about your Pris- 
oners, and wish they were safe in France. You will then have 
Compleated the glorious work of giving Liberty to all the Amer- 
icans who have so long Languished in British Prisons: for there 
are not so many there as you have now taken. 



Paul Jones 



219 



Soon after this he was unanimously elected the ranking 
officer of the American navy, and appointed to superintend 
the building and to have command of the Government's only 
seventy- four, the America, then on the stocks at Ports- 
mouth, New Hampshire. Nearly two years were spent in 
this employment, at the end of which time the ship was 
presented to France, in lieu of one that had been lost in 
Boston harbor. 

By 1 79 1 his health was quite gone, and he speaks of him- 
self as an old man, although he had barely turned five and 
forty. He suffered from a complication of diseases, and 
kept his bed much of the time. There is a very touching 
letter from him to one of his sisters, trying to heal a family 
quarrel. He inculcated charity and forbearance with no 
mean skill, and his allusions to his belief in a future life 
were frank and forcible. 

On July 18, in the afternoon, seeing he was fast failing, 
Gouverneur Morris induced 
him to draw up his will. It 
is a simple document in wdiich 
he divides his property between 
his sisters, and names Robert 
Morris as his sole executor. 

In the funeral discourse over 
him it was said : '' The fame 
of the brave outlives him; his 
portion is immortality." 

So long as ships sail the sea 
will the name of Paul Jones 

be respected. His country 1 

owes him a great debt; for he truly said, " I have ever 




220 The Colonists and the Revolution 

looked out for the Honor of the American Flag." And 
it may be said of him, as of the great Conde: '' This man 
was born a captain." 




THE STAMP-ACT BOX 
By David Walker Woods, Jr. 

Looking over some deeds the other day, I noticed that 
on most of them were several stamps ranging in value from 
ten cents to ten dollars. Every boy who has a stamp-album 
knows that these are revenue-stamps which represent a tax 
imposed by the United States government in order to raise 
money to carry on the war for the Union. Very few peo- 
ple in the North objected to this tax, for they were support- 
ing the Union soldiers and the government at Washington. 

But these stamps remind us of two other wars with 
which stamps had much to do. During our war for the 
Union the stamps were sold to raise money to resist and put 
down rebellion. The other wars were wars against unjust 
taxation, and this taxation was represented by the stamps. 
In one case rebellion produced the stamps; in the other 
two cases the stamps produced rebellion. 

One of these latter wars resulted in the independence of 
Cuba. Perhaps my readers already know that the Cubans 
complained of the taxes of the Spanish government. Every 
merchant in Cuba had to have the pages of his account- 
books marked with a government stamp fixed there by an 
inspector who examined the books every three months or 
oftener. Every shopkeeper had to pay a tax for each let- 
ter of the sign over his door. These things cost a great 
deal of money. If the money were used in Cuba, and for 
the benefit of the Cubans, perhaps they would not have re- 

221 



222 The Colonists and the Revolution 

sisted the tax. But most of it, the Cubans said, went to 
Spain; they also claimed that the little that remained in 
Cuba was used to pay Spanish officials and soldiers who 
oppressed the Cubans. 

The war in Cuba was very much like the American Revo- 
lution, in which our forefathers rebelled ae^ainst the British 







The Stamp-Act box. 

government. Most of us think of the Revolution as begin- 
ning with the victory of the *' Minutemen " at Concord in 
1775. It really l^egan in 1765, and was marked by a vic- 
tory in 1766. In 1765 the British government passed the 
Stamp Act, which obliged the Americans to put stamps on 
their deeds and other legal papers and to pay for stamps 
placed on British goods. The Americans resisted this by 
refusing to buy British goods. Lawyers refused to put 
the stamps on their papers, and ladies gave up wearing 
dresses of English cloth, and wore homespun gowns. 

The men went further. In Boston they made an effigy 
of the stamp-collector, Oliver, to which they tied a boot, in 
ridicule of Lord Bute, the British minister. These were 
placed on a bier, and then burned in front of Oliver's house. 



The Stamp-Act Box 223 

In New York the men broke into the governor's coach- 
house, took out his coach, on which they put a stuffed 
figure, and l^urned both coach and efiigy in front of the gov- 
ernor's residence. Finally, things came to such a pass that 
the British government repealed the Stamp Act, and that 
was the colonists' first victory. The repeal papers were 
sent over in a little wooden box covered with leather. 

Ten years later this box fell into the hands of a member 
of the Continental Congress who was also a signer of the 
Declaration of Independence. After the war he gave it 
to his wife, who gave it to her daughter, and she probably 
used to keep her gloves and ribbons in it. It happens that 
this daughter was my grandmother, and that is how the box 
came into our family. 

If you could see the box, you would find that the leather 
and the wood are full of little holes. They were made by 
insects, which might have destroyed the box. But it has 
been saturated with a strong cliemical which we hope will 
save it for many years. In the picture you are looking 
down at the top of the box. The little brass handle by 
wliich it was carried lies upon the letters ^' G. R.," which 
stand for Georgius Rex, that is, King George. Above the 
letters is a crown, and below you can read the words, 
" Stamp Act R'p'^ March 18, 1766." The letters and the 
figures which ornament the box are in gilt. 

This box is a trophy of a victory against unjust taxation. 
But all true men of that day thought of something more 
than money and taxes. They believed in uprightness and 
honor and truth. It is the duty of a government to do 
justice, and this was well understood by John Witherspoon, 
who gave an ancestor of mine the Stamp-Act Box. It is 
very well to have a strong navy and a strong army; but it 



224 The Colonists and the Revolution 

is well also to remember the words of Wither spoon of the 
Continental Congress on the true nature of national 
strength : 

" He who makes a people virtuous makes them invincible " 
— that is, the true strength of a nation is uprightness. 



THE ORIGIN OF OUR FLAG 
By Parmalee McFadden 

Did it ever occur to you that 
the bunch of colored ribbons you 
wear in your buttonhole — or 
pinned on your dress if you are 
a girl — at commencement, or at 
a baseball or foot-ball game, is 
really a flag? It tells to what 
class or school or college you be- 
long, or which of these for the 
time, has your interest and sym- 
pathy. And for somewhat sim- 
ilar reasons do nations wear their 
colors. At first maybe it was to 
tell one another apart; but after a while the colors — the 
flag — came to represent the nation itself; and the way the 
people acted toward the nation's flag was supposed to show 
the way they felt toward the nation. 

When the American army was encamped at Cambridge, 
just outside of Boston, General Washington felt the need 
of a distinctive flag. There were thirteen colonies repre- 
sented in that army, and each had its own flag, while some 
had more than one. Among this miscellaneous lot of flags 
was the one, of which you have often seen pictures, showing 
a rattlesnake, and bearing the motto : '' Don't tread on me." 
But what the country needed was one flag, with a design 

'5 225 




226 The Colonists and the Revolution 



that meant somethino-, 



So Congress sent a 



committee, 



headed by Benjamin Frankhn, which consulted with Gen- 
eral Washington, and recommended a flag to stand for all 




Fig. I. 
The early flag of E/ng- 
land, St. George's 
Cross. 



Fig. 2. 
The early flag of 
Scotland, St. An- 
drew's Cross. 




Fig. 3- 
The king's colors, 
adopted i6o6. 




Fig. 4. 
The flag of Great 
Britain and her col- 
onies, adopted 1707. 




Fig. 5. 
The flag of the United 
Colonies of Amer- 
ica, first used Janu- 
ary, 1776. 




Fig. 6. 
First flag of the 
United States of 
America (13 stars 
and 13 stripes), 
adopted 1777. 



Fig. 7. 
The flag adopted in 
179s (15 stars and 
15 stripes). 




Fig. 8. 
The flag when it had 
45 stars and 13 
stripes. 



The Origin of Our Flag 227 

the colonies. After much discussion the one adopted was 
that shown in Fig. 5. 

To understand how this flag grew from older flags, let 
us for a moment go back to the early flags of England. 

In the early part of the fourteenth century the flag of 
England bore simply the red cross of St. George on a white 
ground (see Eig. i) ; while the flag of Scotland was a white 
St. Andrew's cross on a blue ground (see Eig. 2). In 1603 
England and Scotland were united, and three years later 
the two flags were combined to form what was called the 
*' king's colors" (see Eig. 3), England and Scotland, how- 
ever, retaining their own individual flags. Indeed, it was 
the red cross of St. George that the " Mayflower " flew at 
her masthead when she brought her precious load of Pil- 
grims to Plymouth that cold winter of 1620, for she was 
an English ship. 

In 1707 Great Britain adopted for herself and her colonies 
the flag shown in Eig. 4, the main part being red, but hav- 
ing in its upper corner the " king's colors," or " union " 
flag, which represented the union of England and Scotland; 
and since that time this part of the flag has been called the 
" union," or " jack," and sometimes the " union jack." 
The term '' jack " is supposed to have come from Jacques, 
the Erench spelling of James, which form the then King of 
England, James I, used in signing his name. 

This (Eig. 4) was the flag of Great Britain down to the 
year 1801, when Ireland was added to form the United 
Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. This further ex- 
tension to the nation was represented in the union by the 
addition of the cross of St. Patrick, which was a diagonal 
cross, like that of St. Andrew, only it was red on a white 
field. The combination of these three crosses of England, 



228 The Colonists and the Revolution 

Scotland, and Ireland has formed the union in the flag of 
Great Britain from the year 1801 down to the present day. 
But this last form of the union jack is not shown here, for it 
has nothing to do with our flag, and never was used by 
any of the American colonies. 

From the flag shown in Fig. 4 w^e come to that shown in 
Fig. 5 — the one that begins to show a resemblance to our 
own familiar flag. This was the flag recommended by Dr. 
Franklin's Congressional Committee. It was called the flag 
of the *' United Colonies of America," and had for its union 
the union jack, made up of only the St. George and St. 
Andrew's crosses of the British flag; but its main field con- 
sisted of thirteen stripes, alternately red and white. There 
is nothing definite known as to what suggested the idea of 
the stripes, unless, as has been claimed, the stripes that ap- 
peared on the coat of arms of the Washington family; al- 
though a flag with stripes was used by the troop of light 
horses that escorted Washington from Philadelphia to New 
York when he took command of the army; and stripes 
were also used on one of the flags of the East India Com- 
pany. 

This flag was first used by the American army encamped 
at Cambridge. The next stage in the evolution of our flag 
was in 1777, when by resolution of Congress it was ordered 
" that the flag of the thirteen United States " (not colonies 
now) *' be thirteen stripes alternately red and white" (just 
as in the flag then in use), but ''the union to be thirteen 
stars, white on a blue field, representing a new constella- 
tion " (see Fig. 6). In this new form we find another sug- 
gestion- of the Washington coat of arms, W'hich contained, 
in addition to two wide red bars, three stars; at least, they 
were in the form of stars, though in heraldry they would 



The Origin of Our Flag 229 

probably be called " mullets " or " rowels " — the sharp- 
pointed wheels used in riding-spurs. 

At the time the stars and stripes were adopted Congress 
was sitting in Independence Hall, in Philadelphia. There 
was living in the city a widow named Elizabeth Ross, who 
for several years, had made government and other flags. It 
was by this woman, in her home in Philadelphia, that the 
first flag authorized by Congress w^as made. It may be in- 
teresting to know that Mrs. Ross's home — the " Betsy 
Ross House," it is called — is still standing at 239 Arch 
Street, Philadelphia. 

About five years ago a number of citizens were given a 
charter under the name of the " American Flag House and 
Betsy Ross Memorial Association." The object of the as- 
sociation have been partially fulfilled by its purchasing the 
old Ross house and converting it into a museum. 

It was in the back room of this house, then, that General 
Washington, Robert Morris, and a Colonel Ross discussed 
with Betsy Ross the details of the flag. It was here they 
decided that the thirteen stars should be placed in the form 
of a circle to show that it was for all times and had no 
end. When considering how many points the stars should 
have, it is reported that Betsy Ross suggested they be given 
five points, because the cloth could be folded in such a way 
that a complete star could be made by one cut of the scissors. 
It is interesting to note that our flags all have five-pointed 
stars, while those on our coins are six-pointed. 

This (Fig. 6) was the flag that was used at the battle of 
the Brandy wine and at Germantown. It was with our 
army when Burgoyne surrendered; with Washington at 
Valley Forge; at the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown; 
and at the evacuation of New York by the British in 1787. 



230 The Colonists and the Revolution 

After Vermont and Kentucky were admitted as States, 
Congress ordered that after May i, 1795, the flag have 
-fifteen stripes and fifteen stars (see Fig. 7). This was the 
flag that our army and navy carried in the War of 1812. 

But, scarcely less interesting to patriotic Americans is the 
fact that this particular form of the flag w^as the one used at 
he attack on Fort McHenry, when Francis Scott Key waited 
with others for the return of morning to learn whether the 
fort had fallen; and when "by the dawn's early light " he 
saw through the mist " that our flag was still there," and 
was stirred into writing '* The Star-Spangled Banner," 
which has since become our national anthem. 

As will be seen from the illustration, this fifteen-stripe 
flag has not so graceful proportions as those of the preced- 
ing forms, and it soon became evident that if a new stripe 
were to be added for each State admitted into the Union, 
in the course of time the flag would become unwieldy. 
So in 1 8 18, when there were twenty States, Congress passed 
a law to the effect that after the following July 4 the num- 
ber of stripes in the flag should be reduced to the original 
thirteen, but that the union should have twenty stars; and 
that as each new State was admitted another star should be 
added, to take effect the Fourth of July next following its 
admission. 

From that time down to this day the stripes have stood 
for the original thirteen States, and the stars for all the 
States. 




:k^^^'^^hS 







Boston in 1757. From an old print. 



■ BOSTON 
By Thomas Wentworth Higginson 

The summer traveler who ap- 
proaches Boston from the land side 
is apt to notice a tall and abundant 
wayside plant, having a rather stiff 
and ungainly stem, surmounted by a 
flower with soft and delicate petals, 
and of a lovely shade of blue. This 
is the succory (Cichorium Intybus of 
the botanists), described by Emerson 
as " succory to match the sky." But 
it is not commonly known in New 
England by this brief name, being 
oftener* called "Boston weed," simply 
because it grows more and more abundant as one comes 
nearer to that city. When a genuine Bostonian (which the 
present writer is not, being only a suburban), returning to 
his home in late summer, sees this fair blossom on an un- 
gainly stem assembled profusely by the roadside, he begins 
to collect his bags and bundles, knowing that he approaches 
his journey's end. 

231 




Succory, or Chicory. 



232 The Colonists and the Revolution 



The original Boston, as founded by Gov- 
ernor John Winthrop in 1630, was estab- 
Hshed on a rocky, three-hilled peninsula, in 
whose thickets wolves and bears were yet 
harbored, and which 
was known variously as 
Shawmut and Tri- 
mountain. The settle- 
ment itself was a sort 
of afterthought, being 
taken as a substitute for 
Charlestown, where a 
temporary abode had 
been founded by Win- 
throp's party. There 
had been much illness 
there, and so Mr. Black- 
stone, or Blaxtone, who 
had for seven years 
been settled on the pen- 
insula, urged the trans- 
fer of the little colony. 
The whole tongue of 
land then comprised but 
783 acres — an area a 
little less than that orig- 
inally allotted to the 
New York Central 
Park. 

Of the original three 
hills, one only is now noticeable by the stranger. I myself 
can remember Boston in my college days, as a pear-shaped 




Old South Church. 



Boston 233 

peninsula, two miles by one, hung to the mainland by a 
neck a mile long and only a few yards wide, sometimes 
actually covered by the meeting of the tide-waters from 
both sides. The water almost touched Charles Street, 
where the Public Garden now is and it rolled over the 
flats where the costliest houses of the city at present 
stand. 

Boston has certainly stood, from an early time, in the his- 
tory of the country for a certain quality of combined thrift 
and ardor which has made it to some extent an individual 
city. Its very cows, during its rural period, shared this at- 
tribute, from the time when they laid out its streets by their 
devious wanderings, to the time when " Lady Hancock," as 
she was called, helped herself to milk from the cows of her 
fellow-citizens to meet a sudden descent of official visitors 
upon her husband the governor. From the period when 
Boston was a busy little colonial mart — the period best 
described in Hawthorne's ^' Province House Legends " and 
" My Kinsman Major Molineux " — through the period 
when, as described in Mrs. Quincy's reminiscences, the gen- 
tlemen went to King's Chapel in scarlet cloaks, down to the 
modern period of transcontinental railways and great manu- 
facturing enterprises, the city has at least aroused a peculiar 
loyalty on the part of its citizens. Behind all the thunders 
of Wendell Phillips's eloquence there lay always the strong 
local pride. '^ I love inexpressibly," he said, ** these streets 
of Boston, over which my mother held up my baby foot- 
steps and if God grants me time enough, I will make them 
too pure to be trodden by the footsteps of a slave." He 
lived to see his dream fulfilled. Instead of the surrendered 
slave, Anthony Burns, marching in a hollow square formed 
by the files of the militia, Phillips lived to see the fair-haired 



234 The Colonists and the Revolution 

boy, Robert Shaw, riding at the head of his black regiment, 
to aid in securing the freedom of a race. 

During the Revolution, Boston was the center of those 
early struggles. Faneuil Hall still stands — the place 
where, in 1774, a letter as to grievances was ordered to be 
sent to the other towns in the State ; the old State House is 
standing, where the plans suggested by the Virginia House 
of Burgesses were adopted; the old South Church remains, 
whence the disguised Indians of the Boston Tea-party went 
forth, and where Dr. Warren, on March 5, 1775, defied the 
British officers, and when one of them held up warningly 
some pistol-bullets, dropped his handkerchief over them 
and went on. The old North or Christ Church also re- 
mains, where the two lights were hung out as the signal for 
Paul Revere's famous ride, on the eve of the battle of Lex- 
ington. 

So prominent was Boston during this period that it even 
awakened the jealousy of the other colonies; and Mr. 
Thomas Shirley of Charleston, South Carolina, said to 
Josiah Quincy, Jr., in March, 1773: '' Boston aims at noth- 
ing less than the sovereignty of this whole continent. 
. . . Take away the power and superintendence of Brit- 
ain, and the colonies must submit to the next power. Bos- 
ton would soon have that." 

One of the attractions of Boston has long been that in this 
city, as in Edinburgh, might be found a circle of literary 
men, better organized and more concentrated than if lost in 
the confusion of a larger metropolis. From the point of 
view of New York, this circle might be held provincial, as 
might Edinburgh from London; and the resident of the 
larger community might at best use about the Bostonian the 



Boston 



235 



saying attributed to Dr. Johnson about the Scotchman, that 
'' much might be made of him if caught young." Indeed, 
much of New York's best hterary material came always 
from New England ; just as Scotland still holds its own in 
London literature. No doubt each place has its advantages, 




The old State House. 



but there was a time when one might easily meet in one 
Boston book-store in a day such men as Emerson, Parker, 
Longfellow, Lowell, Holmes, Whittier, Sumner, Agassiz, 
Parkman, Whipple, Hale, Aldrich, and Howell; with such 
women as Lydia Maria Child and Julia Ward Howe. Now, 
if we consider how much of American literature is repre- 



236 The Colonists and the Revolution 

sented by these few names, it is evident that if Boston was 
never metropoHtan, it at least had a combination of Hterary 
ability such as no larger American city has yet rivaled. 

The very irregularity of the city adds to its attraction, 
since most of our newer cities are apt to look too regular and 
too monotonous. Foreign dialects have greatly increased 
within a few years; for although the German element has 
never been large, the Italian population is constantly in- 
creasing, and makes itself very apparent to the ear. Statues 
of eminent Bostonians — Winthrop, Franklin, Sam Adams, 
Webster, Garrison, Everett, Horace Mann, and others — 
are distributed about the city, and though not always beau- 
tiful as art, are suggestive of dignified memories. Institu- 
tions of importance are on all sides, and though these are 
not different in kind from those now numerous in all vigor- 
ous American cities, yet in Boston they often claim a longer 
date or more historic associations. The great Public Li- 
brary still leads American institutions of its class ; and the 
Art Museum had a similar leadership until the recent great 
expansion of the Metropolitan Museum of New York City. 
The Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the New 
England Conservatory of Music educate large numbers of 
pupils from all parts of the Union; while Boston University 
and Boston College hold an honored place among their 
respective constituencies. Harvard University, Tufts Col- 
lege, and Wellesley College are not far distant. The public- 
school system of Boston has in times past had great 
reputation, and still retains it ; though it is claimed that the 
newer systems of the Western States are in some degree 
surpassing it. 

It is now nearly two hundred years since an English 



237 



The old North Church, with its bu-callcd Paul Revere Tower. 



238 The Colonists and the Revolution 

traveler named Edward Ward thus described the Boston 
of 1699: 

" On the southwest side of Massachusetts Bay is Boston, whose 
name is taken from a town in Lincolnshire and is the Metropolis 
of all New England. The houses in some parts joyn, as in Lon- 
don. The buildings, like their women, being neat and handsome. 
And their streets, like the hearts of the male inhabitants, being 
paved with pebble." 

The leadership of Boston, during these two centuries, in 
a thousand works of charity and kindness has completely 
refuted the hasty censure of this roving Englishman; and 
it is to be hoped that the Boston of the future, like the 
Boston of the past, will do its fair share in the development 
of that ampler American civilization of which all present 
achievements suggest only the promise and the dawn. 



INDEX 



Baltimore, Lord, 21-23 
Boston, 231-238 

Calvert, Leonard, 20-22, 27 
Chesapeake Bay, 20-28 

Declaration of Independence, 157- 

178 
Dutch Colonists, 3, 65-69 



Maryland Colonists, 14, 20-28 
Massasoit, 15 

New England Colonists, 12, 13, 15, 
17, 19, 27, 54, 55, 85-87, 88-95 

Penn, William, 49, 52, 53, 57, 58, 

63 
Pennsylvania, 29, 30, 47-56, 57-64 
Philadelphia, 47-56 



Flag, Origin of, 225-230 -r. , r 

Franklin, Benjamin, 31-46, 51, 52, J,!;'n.^_^.*°"'. ^1"^5_°L ^^^^^^ 

201-208 
Fur-traders, 96-102 



Hale, Nathan, 184-193 
Home-life in the Colonies, 3-8, 20- 
28, 70-^2, 83-87, 88-95, 1 13-124 
Huguenots, 5 

Indians, 61-64, 83, 96-102, 103-112 
Indian Wars, 9-19 

Jones, Captain Paul, 209-219 

King Philip, 15, 18 

Lafayette, 194-200 



Puritans, 4, 17, 67, 88-95 
Quebec, 129-137 



Revolution, Causes of, 35-40, 43, 

126-128 
Revolution, Table of, 102 
Revolutionary Times, 1 13-125, 129- 

137, 179-183, 184-238 

Smith, Captain John, 9 
Stamp-Act, Box, 221-224 

Washington, George, 138-148, 149- 
156, 179-183, 196 



239 



APR 11 191? 



